Three months later, I love Crossfit. It instilled in me probably one of the most important elements of weightloss: confidence. As far as the regular female goes, I don't think I've struggled with body insecurity. I know my size and I accept that. If people have a problem with me because of my weight, then they can just go jump off a cliff for all I care. I don't have time for those people. However, I was not content on being a bigger person for the rest of my life. Not only do I want to be healthy and fit for longevity reasons, but I care what "I" see when I look in the mirror. And being a "Crossfitter" gave me the confidence I needed to tackle that goal.
Jason and I have a daily habit of weighing ourselves each morning. The thing is, Jason either A) Has to be out of the bathroom when I step on the scale or B) I will literally move the scale so he can't see it. Jason knew/knows I'm overweight, but he didn't know how much. No one did, well except my wonderful doctor and my even more wonderful personal trainer. Jason knew how insecure I was about that craptastic number that would show up on the scale each morning, so he didn't push me to tell him what it was.
However, Jason knows me. He knows that I will punish and hate myself for each failure I let happen, so he makes sure he is there as my biggest support system. He gently suggested that I tell him my weight, if only so I didn't have to deal with that knowledge alone. I refused. In true Kayla fashion, I flat out refused in the most stubborn way possible. 100% locked down like Ft. Knox. Several days later though, I just knew I had to tell him my current weight AND my highest weight that I had just hit several weeks before (thanks to a poorly planned foodie weekend courtesy of Jason's birthday).
Let me tell you, since I told him my weight, I feel like a weight (no pun intended) has been lifted off my shoulders. It was so hard to say those words. I bawled like a baby and took about 10 minutes just to say a few simple numbers. The secret was partially out though and it felt wonderful. Instead of saying "I lost 2 lbs this week," I could say, "I weigh xxx amount." And something about that made the successes that much more gratifying.
Well, here's the point of this post. I feel like I need to be honest to my friends and family. In order for me to move on, there has to be more accountability, like Jason told me. So, here goes. At my highest weight (about 3-4 weeks ago), I weighed 301. Yep, you read it. All 5'3" of me weighed 301.
Now, on August 1st, I weigh 288. That's still a lotta body to love, but for the record, that's 13lbs less than what I weighed several weeks ago. I know people may think this a bit obsessive, but I weigh myself twice a day. Once in the morning, and once before I go to bed. This sort of cruel and unusal punishment keeps me on track and doesn't give me a whole lot of room to mess up. Knowing I have to step on Mr. Jerkface Scale keeps me in line!
So, here's another confession. Jason and I want to have kiddos in the next year or two and clearly I can not have children at this stage of unhealthiness. Is that even a word? Several weeks ago, I looked into getting set up with short-term disability/hospital indemnity in order to defray the costs of pregnancy/complications/hospital stays. And guess what? It was a no go. I weigh too much. Lame, I know. Talk about a heaping portion of humble pie.
The wondeful insurance agent who was so sweet & supportive gave me the following breakdown for the insurance premiums vs. weight in lbs:
219-232: 75% premium increase
204-218: 50% premium increase
190-203: 25% premium increase
96-189: Standard underwriting & no rate increase.
I'll tell ya what. I LOVE when I have a clear set of instructions set out before me. I know what I need to do, and where I need to get to. It's the struggles along the way that is hard. So there you have it folks. My big secret is out!
Now, feel free to send happy calorie free thoughts my way.
