Hello everyone,
I'm a 25 year old middle school French teacher and student slowly working towards my Master's degree in International Relations. But of course that's where I am now, not where it all started, so let's go back to the beginning...(I'll try not to make this too long but warning: I do tend to talk a lot!)
When I was a kid, I played soccer, and by the 4th grade I was on a very competitive premier team that traveled around the country for tournaments. I loved playing but was never happy with myself; I was never fast enough, strong enough, skilled enough, or generally even considered myself good enough to be on the field. By the 8th grade, I was inventing homework assignments so I could be too busy to go to practice, and after my worst thoughts about my skills were confirmed by a very unimpressive score by a college scout the next year, I quit.
But I didn't understand that I had to change my eating habits to match, and jumped from 135 freshman year to 185 by senior year. My family tried to shame me into changing, but all it did was drive me further into my shell - and my denial.
The summer before I went to college, I was horribly sick and eventually had to have surgery for a blocked intestine, and dropped to 130 nearly overnight. Everyone was happy and proud of me again, but I didn't have the habits in place to maintain it. I discovered a great love of cooking, but still didn't know anything about food besides what I thought tasted good, and I still hated exercising. I floated back up to 160 until I went to France one summer and fell back to 145 with next to no effort; everyday life there demanded it.
When I came home, I did a little better but slowly went up to 155. I still looked good in my clothes, so I thought I was alright, until I decided to apply to become a police officer over this last summer. I was flying through the application until I hit the physical: I did the sit-ups no problem, moved on to the mile run...and imploded. I could barely run a single lap anymore without stopping, threw up, nearly burst into tears, turned in a 15 minute time and went home with my tail between my legs. But I was still making excuses until today: a friend at work asked me to help him with his dodgeball club. I remembered the police test and immediately thought, no way. But he's a great friend (okay, and I might think he's kinda cute too...) so I said I could help "sometimes".
After I came home, I was just so horribly ashamed - what, I really don't know if I can't keep up with middle schoolers playing dodgeball??? How pathetic is that?? - I knew it was time to put on the big girl pants and face my fear. So here I am, 156.5 pounds as of this morning, trying to convince myself I really can do it. "One day at a time" is way too much for me right now - I'm closer to the "one hour at a time" level. Anyway, I'm here to learn, to work, and to take back my life, just like the thread title says! Let's do this thing!
I'm a 25 year old middle school French teacher and student slowly working towards my Master's degree in International Relations. But of course that's where I am now, not where it all started, so let's go back to the beginning...(I'll try not to make this too long but warning: I do tend to talk a lot!)
When I was a kid, I played soccer, and by the 4th grade I was on a very competitive premier team that traveled around the country for tournaments. I loved playing but was never happy with myself; I was never fast enough, strong enough, skilled enough, or generally even considered myself good enough to be on the field. By the 8th grade, I was inventing homework assignments so I could be too busy to go to practice, and after my worst thoughts about my skills were confirmed by a very unimpressive score by a college scout the next year, I quit.
But I didn't understand that I had to change my eating habits to match, and jumped from 135 freshman year to 185 by senior year. My family tried to shame me into changing, but all it did was drive me further into my shell - and my denial.
The summer before I went to college, I was horribly sick and eventually had to have surgery for a blocked intestine, and dropped to 130 nearly overnight. Everyone was happy and proud of me again, but I didn't have the habits in place to maintain it. I discovered a great love of cooking, but still didn't know anything about food besides what I thought tasted good, and I still hated exercising. I floated back up to 160 until I went to France one summer and fell back to 145 with next to no effort; everyday life there demanded it.
When I came home, I did a little better but slowly went up to 155. I still looked good in my clothes, so I thought I was alright, until I decided to apply to become a police officer over this last summer. I was flying through the application until I hit the physical: I did the sit-ups no problem, moved on to the mile run...and imploded. I could barely run a single lap anymore without stopping, threw up, nearly burst into tears, turned in a 15 minute time and went home with my tail between my legs. But I was still making excuses until today: a friend at work asked me to help him with his dodgeball club. I remembered the police test and immediately thought, no way. But he's a great friend (okay, and I might think he's kinda cute too...) so I said I could help "sometimes".
After I came home, I was just so horribly ashamed - what, I really don't know if I can't keep up with middle schoolers playing dodgeball??? How pathetic is that?? - I knew it was time to put on the big girl pants and face my fear. So here I am, 156.5 pounds as of this morning, trying to convince myself I really can do it. "One day at a time" is way too much for me right now - I'm closer to the "one hour at a time" level. Anyway, I'm here to learn, to work, and to take back my life, just like the thread title says! Let's do this thing!