Pour Your Heart Out - Motivation

It's Wednesday, which means it's time for Pour Your Heart Out, a blogaval hosted by the one and only Shell of Things I Can't Say. If you'd like to join in, just click here to get started!



I was a fat kid growing up. I mean really, I should have been featured on Maury or Montell or something. Okay, maybe I wasn't that fat, but still...my 4th grade class didn't call me "Big Mama" for nothing. Anyway, I basically ate what I wanted and drank sodas, loved candy bars, and my exercise/activity level was little to none. Seriously, I was a fat kid.

In the 7th grade, I got braces put on my teeth and suddenly the fat started to fall off of me. If you have ever had braces, you know why. I couldn't eat like a normal person. Sandwiches had to be broken into bite size pieces, Snicker Bars were off limits, and eating became more of a chore than a hobby. Seriously, it's hard work. Nevertheless, I started feeling pretty good about myself! I was getting thin(ner), and I wasn't really having to exercise to do so.

Since the 7th grade, I gained some and lost some. It was routine. Once I noticed the jeans were getting a little tight, I would back off on the food. It really wasn't hard at all.

But then I got pregnant...

I went into the hospital the night before I had Bree weighing in at 197 pounds. I came home wearing a size 14 in jeans. For a girl that's no more than five feet tall...that is not good (or healthy). Slowly, I dropped weight. I thought that cutting back on food, would help me get back to where I was in just a matter of months. HAH! I soon realized that going from a size 14 back to a size 6 was going to take a lot of work, and just cutting out certain foods wasn't going to do the trick.

That's when I began exercising.

Now, you have to realize what a big step this was for me. I HATED absolutely anything that had anything to do with exercising or physical activity. I had horrible gym teachers in school, who made gym anything but enjoyable for me. I had gym teachers call me "fat" and "lazy" and "useless"...and let me just tell you, by the time I got to the 7th grade, I had had it up to here with gym class. I failed my 7th grade gym class. That's right folks...FAILED! Not because I was that fat and lazy, but because I just refused to dress out (change into gym clothes) and participate. I had rather avoid the humiliation of being called names in front of my class, than to participate. I didn't really care either. Personality flaw? Maybe.

Anyway...

My crazy Mother In Law told me that I would never get back to my pre-pregnancy weight, and that I should be okay with what I looked like. I blame her for my obsession with getting thin & fit, because you do not tell me that I can't do something. You just don't. I will go over and beyond what you said I couldn't do. Losing weight, and getting fit went from being an obsession, to an addiction, to something that I had to do in order to get through a day.

Now, I am into Day 3 of p90x and I feel like I am on the home stretch of finally getting fit like I should be. I've never been more motivated in all of my life. I purchased p90x not just for myself, and the hubby...but for my Dad who struggles with his weight and my Mom with hers. I feel like if they see what p90x does for me, they'll be motivated to do it themselves. Currently, my Dad is going to the gym and trying to get healthy...but who wants to pay gym fees when you can do something like p90x right in your own home?

I'm excited about the possibilities of hopefully getting my entire family fit, and healthy. Well, with the exception of my little brother who let the Marine Corps put him in shape! I love feeling motivated, for good reasons. I'm motivated to get fit for myself, my hubby, and my family. I want to be healthy. I want to be around for a long time to come, and it's got to start now.

Are you motivated in your life? If not, find something to get motivated about; whether it be getting healthy, or cleaning your house. Sometimes all you need in your life is a little direction, and little motivation.