The Best Day of Your Life!!

Bullies are Mean!

Bullying is a major topic in schools these days and it is very serious subject.  However, I have to wonder how many people realize that bullying doesn’t stop after you graduate from school.  Maybe people assume that as we get older we just learn how to deal with it.  I guess in a way that is true, however, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

 

I have been bullied my entire life.  I remember getting into a fight in sixth grade with a boy in my class because he was picking on me.  I had enough and lashed out (and got a few good licks in too).  Freshman year in high school I was forced to endure an entire period of band where the other members (literally only two people were not involved) made fat jokes about me, drew pictures, and humiliated me.  That was 16 years ago and I remember that day every time I get an moment of self pity/low self esteem. The effects of bullying last a lifetime!

 

I am almost 30 and I am dealing with bullies in my life today.  It never goes away.  We just learn how to deal with it a little better.  I refuse to allow the mean people in my life to get me down.  Think about the next time you get ready to make a nasty comment about someone.  I am not innocent of making negative comments and gossip.  But I have to remind myself that those words cannot be taken back.  Even after I say I am sorry, the scars will remain.

Why I do what I do…

One tough Warrior

I was reading another bloggers post (<—read it) this morning and it was talking about misguided adventures and family time.  I get what they are trying to say.  I know that I am not a pro athlete, nor am I trying to be.  I don’t even think I am a weekend warrior, more like the towel girl for the fat guy in the kilt who brings up the rear of the onslaught!  (Sorry I think of all my warriors as men in kilts like in “Braveheart”)  But they have a point when they say “Our lives are fleeting: You are born and you will die someday.  The path between points A and B is so exciting and fulfilling, enjoy it.”  I also somewhat agree to their statement of “Explaining to your 7-year-old Son that you can’t play catch due to the fact that your close minded, harsh abuse to your body (all in the pursuit of some “vain” race bib) has left you crippled?!?  No way to live life A to B.”

My take and $0.02:

I agree with these statements to a point.  I personally don’t want to cripple myself trying to get a race bib.  (If you want to get technical, you get the race bib before the race so assuming that you didn’t injure yourself prior to the race, the only way that you would cripple yourself while getting the race bib is to trip down the stairs on the way to the expo, which in my case is highly possible!)  But I also want to show my daughter that if she puts her mind to it, she achieve any goal!  I think that doing Warrior Dash and these mud runs is making going down the path between points A and B exciting and fulfilling.

Enough quotes of someone else’s hard work, here is a little insight into my life… 

Growing up, I was fat.  I was the tallest kid in my class every year.  I was one of the heaviest kids in my class every year.  I went to

My go to food!

Catholic school for grades K-8th grade.  In 7th grade my dad died.  My dad was my whole world!  Looking back I realize how much that broke my mom and I totally get it, but she had a responsibility to take care of me.  I was told by people instead that I needed to take care of my mom.  I was told not to cry in front of her.  So you know what, I didn’t.  I stayed “strong” and I would cry in the shower and stuff my face when no one was looking.  Then in the 8th grade the guy I liked was paid $5 to go out with me by people I thought were my friends.  When I found out what did I do? Cried and ate.  Freshman year in high school I played percussion in the school band (huge school of 25 kids) and one day they locked the band room door since we had no teacher and made fat jokes about for an hour.  I didn’t cry or yell or scream while they did it.  I wasn’t even going to say anything, but the school director happened to see some of the pictures they drew on the chalkboard and they were busted.  You know what I did that night? I went home and I cried and I ate.

This is me at my heaviest! I hate this picture but it is my reminder of where I don't want to go again!

This isn’t meant to be a feel sorry for me story.  Sorry if it is coming out that way.  The point I am trying to make is that I have always comforted myself with food.  I have this love hate relationship with food. When I would gorge on food to try to make me feel better, I always felt better at first and then I would feel guilty and almost dirty for eating as much as I did.  I know why I was fat.  I know where my weight came from.  But the more I ate, the worse I felt, the more I ate to feel better, the bigger I got, the worse I felt….it was a vicious cycle.  I tried every diet out there, Weight Watchers, Atkins, South Beach, heck even prescription weight loss medication.  I would some weight and think I had it all figured out and then something would happen and I would gain it all back plus another 10 pounds.  Then I had the kiddo and my whole life changed.  I now had this person whose life and livelihood literally depended on me!  Things had to change.

I had been advised to have gastric bypass a couple of times, but kept telling myself it was the easy way out.  I knew I could do it on my own.  When I saw my cardiologist almost two years ago, he warned me that if I didn’t do something soon, I wasn’t going to see my daughter grow up.  I went to the next information session about weight loss surgery.  I called the doctor’s office the next day and I started the process. I took control of my life!!

I have lost about 160 pounds to date.  I have gone from a size 28/3xl, which was a little snug, to a size 14 and a medium or large depending on the style. (except for those damn race shirts!!!!) I can now run!  I can walk to the mailbox and not get tired!  I can play tennis and swim!  I love the way I look!  I am willing to wear neon pink tennis shoes in public and not worry that people are going to think I look like a walking blimp.  (Yes, I do know those shoes make my feel look big!) My ability to enjoy life has gone up exponentially!  This is why I get so upset at idiots like that personal trainer at the gym who make it seem like my surgery is something to be ashamed of.  I don’t feel the need to whisper the word, hell I want to shout it from the roof top! (in my neon pink shoes and matching sports bra!)

So back on track:

So my whole point of this blog was to tell you why I do what I do.  My daughter is my life.  I don’t want her to have to go through the pain of poor self esteem.  I want her to be proud of herself.  This is why if she wants to wear neon pink (I am seeing a pattern here) striped leggings with an olive green and purple plaid dress and sea star converse shoes, damn right I am going to tell her “that is the perfect style!”  I am going to take time out of my day to make sure that we go to the park or for a walk or put together puzzles.  I am going to entertain the idea of reading one more book at bedtime.  I am going to stop whatever I am doing so she can tell me how her day was, even though I spent every minute of it with her.  I will wake up from my wonderful dream about warriors in kilts to scare away monsters and spray monster spray in her room.  It also means that I will prove that anything she sets her

No More Monster Spray from Fizz Bath Shop....it really works!

mind to (except practicing mountain climbing on my counters or running with knives) is possible.  I will complete my goals so that I can set a good example for her.

She is telling us that she now wants to be an astronomer.  This means that I will rearrange my schedule to take her to the planetarium and the observatory.  I will let her go to bed 10 minutes late so that she can run outside and see Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn in the sky!

I cannot promise to be the perfect parent! I will make mistakes, but that in it self is a lesson!  It shows my kiddo that just because we make a mistake, it is not the end of the world!  It shows that we can dust ourselves off and get back to what we were doing.  So in response to the statement about broken bodies over a vain attempt at a race bib.  I don’t think that is selfish! I think it is setting the right example!