So here’s the thing. This past week, I posted my Before and After photos on Facebook to visually show the physical transformation that has happened with my body since committing to a change late last summer. In the last few days since posting that photo, I have had over a dozen people mention to me how amazing the transformation was, how they couldn’t believe how much stronger I looked, and even how much happier I looked in the photo. I received messages from people telling me they want to live with me in my house so that they can do exactly what I did in order to look like I do. While I take all of these things as compliments, I also can’t help but somewhat regret posting the photo. Why? Because truly, it’s not about how you look. A picture says a thousand words but often, there is so much more.
As a health and fitness Coach, I have prided myself on being a representative and advocate of being healthy and feeling good. I’m not as into the number on the scale as I am the way someone feels. As someone who works often with overweight women, I also value the importance of self confidence.
Which is why I want to describe my story in addition to the photo. To me, the story is where the struggle is. The photo just looks pretty and impressive, but doesn’t truly represent the journey taken to get from Point A to Point B.
You see, when the Before photo was first taken, I was sitting 7 hours a day behind a desk. I was exercising, albeit only 20-30 minutes per day, and often including the dog walk as my fitness for the day. My eating habits were terrible. Chris and I would frequent our local bar and grill for hot wings and supreme pizzas on the weekends, eat chips like it was our job during lunch break, drink soda and sports drinks throughout the day, and end each night with milk and cookies. Yeah, we ate like that.
When the Before photo was taken, I was living in a haze of daily headache. Those who know me know that I have struggled with daily migraine for several years, but have never settled for the “go to bed in a cold dark room trick.” As a Type A personality, and one who wants to get things done and never waste a moment, I pushed myself anyway. I would literally count down the hours until bedtime, until the moment I could relax and feel the pain dissipate… never disappear, just lessen. I would go to bed and sleep for a few hours, wake up to go to the bathroom, and the headache would STILL BE THERE. I would awaken in the morning to the pounding in my ears. I would sit up on the side of the bed and take deep breaths, starting my countdown to the end of the day all over again, from the second it started. The first thing I did in the morning was get dressed, and put pills in my pocket. Preventative pills, pills for the pain, pills for the kidney stones I had as a result of the pills I was taking for the headache. I went to work. I focused as hard as I could during the morning to actually get my work done. I would pop a painkiller at lunch time. “Just get through the day,” would play on Repeat in my head until 4:30. My manager would call me into her office occasionally to inquire.
“Why are you leaving early most days? We see you leave at 4:15.”
Calmly, I would answer, “My bad. I’ll do better.” What I really wanted to say was, “I finished my work hours ago. Oh, and my head’s ON FREAKING FIRE.”
But I would come home, and press Play. I would half-ass my way through a workout, usually the shortest one in the stack, and call it a day. I would eat more than I needed, because eating meant my head was preoccupied from thinking about how bad it hurt. On the days the pain was really bad (usually Fridays, after the stress of the week had built up), we would head to the Urgent Care down the street for a painkiller injection. Chris would carry me to the car, up the stairs, and treat me like a patient until my Type A kicked back in and I was up and at ’em, on Repeat for the next week.
Last summer, my world changed. I went for a walk with my good friend and yoga instructor, Jen. I told her I was at wit’s end… that I couldn’t see another neurologist, headache clinic, specialist, or spinal guy. I told her, “This is the card I’ve been dealt.” I figured that if I was going to have a headache every day, I’d just have to deal with it. I couldn’t let it take over my body. At the end of our walk, Jen said, “I know you don’t want to see anyone else. But I really think you should give one last person a whirl. She specializes in natural medicine.”
Instantly, my mind went to witch doctor. But I took Jen’s advice and I saw the new doc. She found several concerns in my bloodwork, including some hormonal imbalances, which gave me hope. “Hormone stuff?” I thought. “I haven’t heard that before. Hope!” I had heard at all at that point. Migraines due to sleep patterns, food I was eating, disc bulges in my cervical spine, blood pressure… but not hormones.
This witch doctor changed my life.
At the same time, with this reinvigorated spirit of hope, I told Chris I wanted a change. I wanted to learn how to eat better, and take care of my body. For so long, my head had been so fogged that I had ignored everything from the neck down. I wanted a change. Turned out, Chris did, too. He felt lethargic and was about 30 pounds heavier than he had ever been. So one night, after an appointment with my doctor, we walked the dog and had a conversation about if there was really another side to the way we were feeling, physically. Were there actually people out there who felt good, all day, who lived without pain and had natural energy? If so, they seemed so far away, yet through being a part of Team Beachbody, we had met such people and either thought they were either flakes, or we were living in another world. We weren’t quite sure. So we decided to give it a whirl. That night, after our walk, we took our Before photos. This photo you see here? It’s more than just some extra stomach flab and a chubbier face. This photo shows the pain. The pounding in my head, the misery in my face, the lack of self confidence.
We did the Ultimate Reset for 21 days. We learned how to cook real food and fuel our bodies. We purged our entire kitchen, including our pantry, fridge, freezers, and cabinets. When the U.R. ended, I went immediately into a round of P90X. I committed to drinking Shakeology every single day. Chris decided to join me for a second round of P90X in January of this year, which we just finished 12 days ago. We’re now 10 days into Insanity, which is something I never dreamed of being able to do in my previous pain-driven life. All of these things are what has contributed to the change: the physical change evident in the photo, the mental change that is so necessary to a future of success, and the empowerment I feel as someone who has overcome and achieved greatness.
The numbers don’t lie. Since last July, I have lost 26 pounds. My total cholesterol has dropped 49 points and stayed there. My blood pressure now averages 90/53, which is a huge improvement over the 120/77 it was then. My body fat percentage is now to the athlete level, holding steady at 13.5%.
Those people I thought were flakes? I am one of them. Those imaginary people that supposedly have great energy all day every day, who live without pain and have clear mental focus? I am one of them.
The Before/After photos of others have always been inspiring to me, even before my own change. They’re visually stimulating, and they instigate a Wow factor. But what they don’t do is unveil the story. The story is where the struggle is. The story is where the pain is. And you know what I’ve uncovered? We all have a story.
I certainly gained good health, the right way, with proper nutrition and exercise. I got my self confidence back. On the day this After photo was taken, Chris and I celebrated the official news that our fitness studio was moving forward. The smile you see in this picture is not only a smile of accomplishment, but one that marks the first chapter of a new story… The story of paying this feeling forward.