On plus size shopping:

Third grade.  That was the first year shopping for clothes became, let's say, challenging. 

 Plus size clothing for girls and women has come a long way.  And still, it hasn't come that far.  I remember looking for jeans that would fit my waist.  They tended to be size "Misses."  There I'd stand, feet in the denim's knee section, six inches of Jean trailing on the floor. 

                "We can hem these," my mom would say optimistically as she rolled the pants up and turned me toward the mirror.  Ahhh, the horrors.  There I stood short and portly, the stunning physique of a cheerful garden gnome.

                Somehow I survived one fashion horror after another during those early years simply by being a Vermonter.  I've known plenty of transplants who've settled in Vermont only to be appalled at the State's general lack of fashion sense.  But because the prom queen wore sweat pants, her hair barely brushed into a sustainable ponytail, we were all safe.  There was no point of reference.  Except for Teen and Seventeen Magazine.  Ah, I spent hours reading through the pages, pouring over the "Nightmare(s) of the Month," which inevitably chronicled the events leading to an unsuspecting pre-teen starting her period clad in white from head-to-toe, something straight out of a Freddy Krueger flick.  It was there I saw skinny girls flashing dazzling smiles sporting leggings and slouch socks;  leotards snug under denim overalls; tartan skirts, knee socks  and sporty converse sneakers.  Oh, and then there was the prom issue.  One word: puffy sleeves. Don't even get me started.

                But when I headed to Penney's with my mom it was always the same.

                "We can hem these."

                Blink, blink.

            When stores began adding plus sized clothing to their collection the outcome was, well, dismal.  While cute styles hung on the size 0-12 racks, the "Womens" rack was a startling raucous combination of bead work, rhinestones, ruffles and feathers - well, maybe not feathers, but think garish .  There was, to be fair,  the occasional Golden Girls-esque pants suit for the active retiree, but that was about it.  It was in those days that I became a scavenger.  I 'd find tees that could be stretched, elastic waist bands that could be hidden, and denim that could be de-be-dazzled.  It was a gift.  It still is a gift.

                The first month of the 1312 challenge is drawing to a close.   I haven't eaten sugar, flour, or dairy for twenty-eight days, my self-determined eating plan (http://whole30.com/).  Maureen is an animal with her Bob Revolution Duallie.  Leigh is forging ahead with exercise and prescribed  vitamins and supplements.  We're doing this. 

                As for the future of fashion?  When I fit into the 0-12 rack, I'm wearing every fashion I was ever denied, beginning with a great pair of jeans, no hemming necessary.

Happy Feet, Strong Legs

We had so much fun doing our challenge that we decided to do it again the following week. We even improved upon our time and did it about 15 minutes faster than the first time. Yahoo! We are all just chugging along on our individual fitness endeavors. Maureen got up the gumption to run intervals on her 4 mile walk this week. Mandy has been getting up at 6:30 AM to get her workout in, and Leigh is being a crazy pants and hiking the Ledges again this evening. Awesome!

We thought you would enjoy a video of us huffing and puffing on the way up...

Aren't we charming when we exercise?

And why not post 2 incredibly ridiculous pictures of Maureen leaping for joy once we reached the top? 

Ain't no shame in my game!

And in a moment of fitness love, we "gracefully" staged this picture of our feet over-looking Addison County. These are happy feet, and strong legs that are carrying us along on this journey.

Challenge #2 

 We have had a lot of interest from local community members, and people not so local, to join our monthly challenges. We are thrilled that others want to challenge themselves and improve their physical fitness!!  So we will be opening up our challenges each month to anyone who wants to join. Challenge #2 is a swimming challenge. We will be gathering at Mt. Abe high school pool on Saturday September 13th at 9am to swim a mile. We will play some rocking music and swim as much of that mile as we can in an hour. Please join us! If you have questions, feel free to email fitvermontmama@gmail.com.

I may not be ____, but I am ___.

I often find that with the beginning of any journey, I am prone to reflect on the past for a bit. I have had a flood of memories wash over me these last few days. Most of them I usually avoid discussing in causal conversation for obvious reasons. Some of them are funny, some of them not so much. Either way, as my friend Mandy stated, this journey that my friends and I are on is real and raw. In all honesty, it has been painful.

I was cognoscente at an early age that I was bigger than other kids. Starting at about the age of 6, I began to pack on the pounds. When I was 10 and expressed some worry about my weight to one of my friends, she said that I just had a lot of "baby fat" and shouldn't worry too much. Nice try, Jenny! Jenny was trying to be nice, but I knew better. Another memory that I am now able to laugh about...I remember discovering with excitement, a freshly baked pie in the kitchen one day sometime during Middle School. As I approached it with great joy, anxiously determining if I would go for a big or bigger slice, suddenly my younger (then, profoundly obnoxious) brother jumped out from around the corner with his hands held together as if he were holding a gun, and yelled, "Step away from the pie!!!" I was mortified. Utter shame and embarrassment. What followed is unclear, but I'm fairly certain he got what he had coming.

During Elementary and Middle School, what I lacked in physical appearance, I made up for in other ways. I was funny, and friendly, and learned to sniff out people's true intentions from a mile away. I managed to snag a few great friends along the way.

The thing that truly saved me through Middle School and High School is that I decided to join a swim team. I had always loved the water, so my parents encouraged me to try out for a local club team. From the second I stepped foot in the water, I knew I had found my natural habitat. I was hooked! I swam competitively from age 12-19. I never truly got my weight under control during those years, most likely due to the excessive (and intentional) carb-loading. I remained on the more plump side; however, swimming made me very strong and boosted my confidence because, as it turned out, I was REALLY good at it. While I wanted to be thin, it wasn't something that brought me a lot of grief during those years because I was so active. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I prided myself on my swimming abilities in spite of my weight. All too often, I would stand on the block prior to a big race and look out at the crowd of people. More often then not, I interpreted their gazes to mean that I didn't stand a chance next to all of the slim, female versions of Michael Phelps. Boy did I show them! I managed to prove them wrong, time and time again.

The emotional burden I feel from being overweight has increased with time. For the past decade, my focus has primarily been my education and now my career. I have had a successful career, but what do I truly have to show for it? I'll answer that...a tire around my waist and a ridiculous amount of stress. I'm in my early 30's, unmarried, with no children, so I spend the vast majority of my time working. About 3 years ago, I decided that I needed a change, so through proper nutrition and exercise, I lost about 70 lbs. I looked great, and felt great, but couldn't seem to get rid of the fat girl in my head, the one that is prone to emotionally overeat. Several really difficult experiences ensued, including the suicide of a close friend, a really bad break-up, and other disappointments that eventually resulted in my not being able to hold it together. Something had to give...so it was my weight. The fat girl in my head won. Since then, I have worked off and on to get my weight under control. I have tried so many things...P90X, detox, gluten-free, sugar-free. I'm really good at all of these things for usually 2-3 months, but then burn out usually. It has been so frustrating!!!

It has finally dawned on me. How can I change my behavior on the outside, if I don't quite have it together on the inside? And that right there, folks, is why I have yet to have lasting results! I recognize that I am currently stuck in some very negative thought patterns, patterns that I desperately want to break. I have to and I need to if I am going to change my lifestyle. These thoughts are impeding me from seeing myself for who I truly am now, and what I can become in the future.

So, here is what I have to say to those negative thoughts...

1) I may not have super skinny, petite legs, BUT I DO have some pretty amazing calves. And guess what...they're entirely genetic. No calf-raises needed here! I would post a picture, but I need to shave my legs. For now, I will leave it to the imagination.

2) I may not be the person that you want to see in a racing swimsuit, BUT I AM definitely the person you want to have with around if you are a) drowning, b) lost at sea, c) pretty much doing anything in water.

3) I may not be thin, BUT I AM strong (see what I did to that medicine ball above). I may have put the weight back on, but I've seen what is underneath this layer (or multiple layers) of chub before, and it is a lot of muscle! I'm excited to see it again!

4) I may not fit the world's standard of beauty, BUT I AM a good, honest person that has wonderful friends and family. I have a great life that brings me joy. What more could a person ask for, really?

5) I may not be "there" yet, BUT I AM trying. And little by little I am succeeding as I make small, but consistent changes.

How often we define ourselves by saying, "I am..." or "I am not..." These are powerful statements and can truly impact our attitudes and ultimately our decisions. I DEEPLY know that what we do on the outside is merely a reflection of what is going on in the inside. That is a bit daunting to me at times, but I'm personally exhausted of the "band-aid" approach to weight-loss. It's not lasting. And I want lasting. Who's with me?!?!

Now, I've given you a few of my "I may not be ____, but I am ___" statements. What are yours???

Why This Isn't Another "Monday"

Diet starts Monday. The ultimate excuse to eat whatever I want. A phrase I have often used as I guiltily shove my face with all my favorite eats. My husband has heard me say it a million times.  I would look at him and say,

"Ok, I better enjoy this treat now, because on Monday everything will be different. I won't be eating any of this. I mean it this time. This is my last Hoo-rah!" 

The first 15 times I did that my husband lovingly said "You got this honey! Good for you. Monday will be great! Whatever makes you happy!" My sweet husband, who loves me, and loves my body through thick and thin, through all shapes and sizes, just wants me to be happy. And has been supportive of my countless weight loss endeavors. One Saturday a few months ago as I was guiltily and unhappily chattering away to him about my health plans for "Monday" while simultaneously shoving a donut in my mouth, he looked at me and said " One last Hoo-rah, eh?" He meant it as a loving joke. I saw the truth. And I was mortified. Something needed to change. I needed to stop waiting for Monday to change my life. 

I have been living the past 4 years on one long "last Hoo-rah". Sure, I have honestly made real attempts to cold turkey (pun intended) my way out of poor health choices. And my heart really has been in the right place. So why wasn't I successful? 

I was a chubby child and teenager. Like Mandy, I was funny, witty, friendly and cheerful. I had lots of friends and was happy. I didn't know what a calorie was until I was 17 years old. The summer before my senior year of high school I worked part time in the business office of our local YMCA. The ladies in the business office were doing the latest popular diet- low carb, high fat. Honestly, at 230lbs as a teenager, I was really just motivated because what they were eating looked good. I had never really thought about losing weight. They were eating pepperoni and cheese and sugar free jello with cool whip. Yes please! So I jumped in. I lost 35lbs in 2 months. I began learning about health and fitness and started running and exercising while watching calories for the rest of the year. I lost 70lbs my senior year of high school. I stayed between 160-180lbs for about 9 years. I worked out hard, hiking and running (I even ran a marathon in 2009!!)  and ate healthy foods. I was diligent and worked hard to stay trim. But I had fun and ate ice cream and pizza in moderation. I had found some balance- but still had to be committed to my health.  When I got married in 2010, I had a foot injury which prevented me from exercising for several months. I had just graduated college and I was working long hours while my husband finished his last year of school, and quite frankly, I got lazy. Four years and 2 babies later, I've gained 100lbs, and at 270lbs I was 30-40lbs heavier than I had ever been in my life.  I was crushed. I had really poor self esteem for the first time in my life. I couldn't believe after years of maintaining weight loss, I had gained so much weight.

Halfway through my pregnancy with my second child, who is now 8 weeks old, something changed within me. I had the "no more Mondays" epiphany.  I realized that as a wife, and a mom, my self-destructive-waiting-for-Monday emotional eating, was not working for me. Not at all. 

I began making small changes in April of this year. Because I was pregnant it was easy for me to do things in moderation. Drink water instead of juice or milk. Eat carrots instead of chips.  Go for short walks. Stuff like that. Then in early summer Mandy, Leigh, and I began the process of making our 1-3-12 brainchild a reality. At the end of July this year, 6 weeks postpartum, I started walking more and more in preparation for our first challenge. I started really watching what I was eating. I have lost 30lbs. It feels great. So how do I keep up this momentum? How do we stay committed when we know that we have a significant amount of weight to lose, and it is going to take months, or years? 

Vegetables, people. 

5 miles!!! It doesn't take long to change-- I have been shocked at how strong my body is becoming. 

Last week, after 3 weeks of great choices, exercise, and a super positive attitude I felt the familiar "you deserve to eat that brownie" demon taunting and tempting me. It had been a hard week- my husband was working long hours, the baby wasn't sleeping well at night, I was stressed and tired. I was scared of failing and not achieving my goals- AND  I was scared of being successful!l I wanted to eat food to comfort my emotions. Let me clarify: I wanted to SNARF my stress, anxiety, and fear. Allow me to be even more specific: I wanted to 'Las Vegas Buffet'  my way through every single darn feeling. After two days of poor choices, I sobbed to my husband that I was failing yet again at all my goals. I wanted to throw in the towel. I felt so defeated. My husband, my cheerleader, my best friend, the most logical and analytical man I know, reassured me that all was not lost.

He told me to think of my progress in terms of green and red. He asked me to imagine the past month as a calendar. For every day that I made good choices and exercised put a big green X. For those days where I could have done better put a big red X. As I visualized that he asked how many green and how many red X's. I realized that I had 3 weeks of green and 2 measly days of red. I quickly realized that I did not want to continue sabotaging all of my hard work just because I didn't do as well as I wanted for two days. Imagine that. Self-sabotage was not only illogical, it was downright dumb. 

Can I just tell you, this was a total breakthrough for me?!? This is what it means to change your "lifestyle". This is what it means to stop living for "Monday". This is real accountability. This is REAL LIFE. Good days, bad days, and everything in between. There is no excuse good enough to not make my health a top priority. I am sick of excuses. I am sick of Monday. 

Mandy, Leigh, and I are gearing up for a year of good health. 12 challenges. This is such an adventure! We are excited. It is going to take hard work- and a lot of motivation and determination. And when we make mistakes, we have to realize that all is not lost. And we have to be honest with ourselves. And we HAVE to love ourselves. And perhaps that is our biggest challenge. Self-love. Do we love ourselves enough to eat good food everyday, and be active and exercise? Do we love ourselves enough to realize this isn't deprivation or punishment? We are setting ourselves free of our addiction to unhealthy lifestyle choices. And it feels AWESOME. And it feels HARD. And it feels SCARY. But mostly it feels AWESOME!!! 

So here's to no more "Mondays"!! Who's with us?!?

1 Year. 3 Friends. 12 Challenges.

OR

On beginning the weight-loss journey…again

Maybe it was Jake Sedano, some local kid one year my senior, yelling, "Hey, thunder-thighs," as I pedaled my bike south on north street, sweat dripping from my hairline.  Or my grandmother, a skilled seamstress, pulling measuring tape around my torso, quietly shaking her head as she cut out  tissue paper extensions to add to each pattern piece.  Maybe it was my friend's mother pulling me aside conspiratorially, begging me to diet.  Maybe it was one of these moment, I can't be sure.  But I do know that before I turned ten I was sure of two things:  I was big.  Big was bad.

Every moment thereafter was colored by these two revelations.  I was smart, so that helped.  Fat and smart is okay.  Fat and funny is okay, too.  So I was smart.  Sometimes I was funny.  And so I had friends.  The girls weren't threatened by me, and I was a pal to the boys.  Plus, I was connected to all the cute girls.  A pal with benefits.

But this isn't about high school.  I mean,  I'm thirty-five.  I've graduated!  It's just that anyone who has struggled with weight (or anything for that matter) knows that the struggle is played out on the stage of those formative years.  Since then, I've been working to redraft my very own logical fallacy: I am big.  Big is bad. Therefore, I am bad.

And so I stare down the barrel of the gun once again.   Like I said, I'm thirty-five.  I have three girls under the age of five.  I have a husband.  A good one.  I have an advanced degree, a great job, a couple dogs, a cat, a handful of chickens.  And I have weight bearing down on me.  I've tried every cleanse, every fitness app, every popular diet.  So why will this attempt at weight-loss be different?  Because this time "I" am "we".

Who are "we"?  I've known Maureen now for two years and Leigh less than one.  We met at church.  More specifically, we met as a group for the first time by the church piano, hymnals clutched in hands.  We were slotted to sing none other than the upbeat traditional Christmas carol "In the Bleak Midwinter."  And though we practiced feverishly - laughing at the caged, closeted Diva in us all - the song proved prophetic: the Sunday we were scheduled to perform arrived in a deep bank of impassable snow.  But that carol became the platform upon which our friendship was forged.

And now, "I" am "we".  Three strong.  All with varying backgrounds.  All in our thirties.  All overweight.  All with the same goal: To find and secure good health.  This, therefore, is the plan:  We have one year to make significant health gains in our life on and off the scale.  Each month we create a physical challenge.  This month we hiked a local peak.  Next month, we'll swim laps for a determined period of time and distance.  The month after that?  Who knows!  Each month's challenge will be a little harder than the one before.  1.3.12.  One year.  Three friends. Twelve challenges.

 And how will this end?  We don't know, but as one writer writes, "The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on."  So here goes nothing.  The handle has been turned.