Left: 126lb, fresh-off-the-boat Irish emigrant landed on the west coast of Canada. I think I’d been living off of toast, beans and vodka for about eight months & generally refusing to do anything in terms of dealing with my mental health (I was heartbroken and having a very difficult time with obsessive compulsive disorder and a kind of high functioning nihilistic depression). My favourite activities that I bracketed as “healthy” were hours and hours of cardio on the elliptical and bikram yoga.
I was a chaotic mess about food - all the messages about what was good or bad just seemed to contradict themselves and left me with a bundle of fear based paradoxical rules around good and bad - I wanted to be a perfect 1200 calories every day but, uh, alcohol didn’t count, right? My macro breakdown would have been tragic - sugar, carbohydrates and maybe a paltry amount of fat and protein. I also have a history of restrictive eating, and although in denial about it at the time, was probably executing a variant of well-controlled anorexia nervosa.
As you can imagine, being in my late twenties by then with next to no valuable muscle mass, the inevitable happened - I think I metabolically adapted somewhat but also was sort of starting to lie to myself / gloss over some glaring deficits in my nutrition and fitness.
My weight crept up, but there wasn’t much muscle involved in those numbers. I’d kid myself that a big bowl of sweet potato drenched in olive oil and ketchup didn’t need to get counted in my calories because ~vegetables~ / I’d mentally calculate the calories for a home made vodka soda by pretending it was a single shot of liquor in there (it would have been more like four)...
I also got into a good relationship, with a wonderful guy who loves his food, and catapulted into a pattern of eating throughout the day, all day. I kept pretty much only doing cardio, but I’d tell myself two hours on the stationary bike counted as making me “extremely active” even if I’d only sat at a desk for the entire rest of the day. A lot of weekends were spent in bed with horrendous hangovers,
By March 2018, my 30th birthday, a super elegant designer skirt I’d bought six months previously to wear for my party didn’t zip even halfway up. (Check my post history for what I looked like at the higher end of the scale). It was the first instance I remember thinking I had to stop kidding myself. A week later I signed up for a personal trainer, got premium MFP, commenced on doing ALL the research on fitness and nutrition and promised myself that by 31 I’d have abs. It was a bit of a wild notion and not as concrete of a goal as would typically be suggested, but - it was the first thing I could think of. Hahah.
It’s August now, and that’s me on the right. I’m about 123-126lb; ~20% bodyfat; I lift heavy, my form on deadlifts has gone from hopeless to awesome. I mix it up with strength based yoga, as well as TRX, Pilates, barre and callisthenics. That sounds a little crazy written down, but I LOVE it. There’s so much to learn and fine tune and master. I do not do cardio. WHICH IS CRAZY. I never thought I’d get there. My aim now is to just get 10,000-15,000 steps a day, which is a neat (lol get it) way of ensuring I’m not unconsciously decompensating on my daily activity levels if I hit the weights hard.
I eat 1800-2250 calories a day with a strong focus on protein and relatively low carb, but I don’t deny myself anything (I’m actually just off a two week diet break. Goddamn brownies are good). I don’t really drink any more - it’s one or two on a special occasion, but I don’t miss it at all the way I thought I would. I use intermittent fasting, but flexibly.
I stopped kidding myself about my calories and pushed my focus onto macros. No I can’t pretend I didn’t have half the cookie in work, or the extra tablespoon or four of mayo with that burrito - because it all adds up and consistency at tracking is infinitely better at helping me be accountable to myself and figuring out what works and what doesn’t. Just because I don’t track something, doesn’t mean it won’t show up in my progress...
The biggest thing that’s changed is my view on food and activity has drastically shifted from fear, double think and burn out, towards genuine curiosity, enjoyment and experimenting. I -like- moving, I like the clear sense of direction I get from training with a plan instead of going to the gym every day just to burn off calories.
Just wanted to put a little positivity out there for the folk who are starting out - the process isn’t always easy, it isn’t always golden each new day, it takes time and practice. But it is worth it!
