Dear Jenn: Don't be a fatty

The majority of those who read my blog regularly knew me in high school - the tall, pudgy girl with the LONG ratty looking nearly black hair who liked to sing. I was outspoken, but not rude to people and was, I have come to learn, an aquired taste. I like to think that I was "ahead of my time" insofar as I acted like a 25 year old and, therefore, couldn't really be identified with by my peers.

Through Elementary School and Middle School, I had been pretty well tortured by my classmates. I can distinctly remember running through JC Mills Elementary School's plaground during recess - me and two girlfriends of mine were holding hand's and skipping around the playground in a makeshift version of "The Whip" and our teacher approached us and said "Well you guys are awefully happy!" - I, in my infinite wisdom, responded "YES! We're GAY!" - knowing, in the fourth grade, that gay meant "happy" AND happened to a reference to homosexuality. The mistake that I made, of course, was that other fourth graders didn't know that gay meant happy. So, you can imagine how my heart broke when my two girlfriends immediately ripped their hands away from mine, looked at me in disgust, and left - all the while me yelling after them: "noo! Gay means happy too!! Listen to me!"

Pathetic.

By the time I was in the 5th and 6th grade, I couldn't find pants that fit properly because my legs are, well, ganglionic, if that's even a word. Presently I have a 35" inseam but have the shortest torso known to man (seriously, imagine a little person - now imagine that little person with normal length legs. That was me.). So, you can imagine that walking around with pants that come 1 inch above the tops of your feet can be a bit of a problem. The solution my mother came up with, creatively, was to start buying me men's jeans since you could order them in any waist x leg length you needed. Let me tell you ladies - not comfortable.

No, Middle School wasn't fun. Luke (insert last name here) pushed all my books off my desk, pulled my chair out from under me as I went to sit down, stepped on the backs of my heels as I was walking through the hallway... it was terrible. Finally, I swung around, one day, kicked him in the shin as hard as I could and started to finish down the hall - and almost ran headfirst into Mr. Tromontina who witnessed my whole, intentional, act. I was called to the Principal's office later but was let go with a warning after I sold Luke out on all the horrible things he had done to me all year and never reported.

I think Luke mighta had a crush on me but will never know for sure.

When I was about 11, dad sat down on the edge of my bed and said something along the lines of (and don't quote me here!):
"Jenn, we are really concerned about your weight".
"Do you think I am fat?" I replied carefully.
"No, but we just want to make sure that you are eating right so that you don't have to worry about being overweight."

Now, before anyone gets the wrong idea here there are some very important things I need to share about this exchange between my dad and I:

1) Dad was VERY overweight when he was a kid. He knew the kind of torture I was in for if I didn't get my weight under control soon.

2) Dad didn't say what he did in such a way as to be abusive. He has ALWAYS been very careful about what and how he says things to me so that I don't get hurt but he still gets his point across.

3) I am "over it" these days, so any "hurt" I felt back then is completely unimportant. My dad (and my mother) are amazing people who care about me a lot and never intentionally hurt me. (Though they do believe in tough love).

Unfortunately, my dad's warning fell on deaf, immature ears and I went about my business. Mom was very sick in these years and dinners were, mostly, "fend for yourself". I didn't have a lot of guidance on portion control, less guidance on balanced meals and didn't have a very good schedule (started skipping breakfast VERY young, eating next to nothing the rest of the day and loading up on high carb foods at around 5pm at night before bed at 8pm). This cycle of eating continued through high school.

In the 15 years since, I have come to learn a few things. Firstly, I LOVE FOOD. It's yummy, it makes me happy, it soothes me when I am not happy, and its a neccessary part of my life. Next, "everything in moderation" isn't bullshit. Yes, I can sit down and eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting, but I will have to pay the repercussion and it will usually be in my ASS. Another thing is that desert doesn't mean a quarter of a pan of brownies, topped with 2-3 scoops of ice cream, hot fudge whipped cream, cherries, sprinkles, and cookie crumbles (a common occurance in the Gumpert household circa 1998 - its a MIRACLE the heaviest I got was 198 and NOT 305). Also, if you are going to eat desert, here's an idea: Don't eat it 20 minutes before you go to bed and put your body into hibernation.

Idiot.

Lastly, I have learned that excercise is not your enemy - its your ally. Look, I am not getting in shape to run a marathon. I am not getting in shape to live a healthy lifestyle and become some motivator for the people around me. I am getting in shape so I can eat what I want and not hate myself for it. I can enjoy eating out with my husband or with our friends and not sit on the shower stall floor crying or take 45 minutes to pick out an outfit for work because nothing in my closet makes me feel very good about myself.

My weightloss/management journey has varied a LOT in the last 15 years:
1998: 198lbs (sophomore year/junior year)
1999: 160lbs (senior year - Atkins diet)
2000: 165lbs (escaped the freshman fifteen by pulling 20 hours days and rarely eating)
2001: 185lbs (liked food a lot, stopped doing anything physical)
2002: 160lbs (started Rutgers, stressed out, stopped eating, took up smoking)
2004: 185lbs ("Happy Bunny Syndrome", enjoying my life, not doing much activity)
2007: 160lbs (started working out a LOT, eating right, finally figured out my magic pill)
2009: 225lbs (stopped smoking, pregnant with Olivia)
2010: 202lbs (no longer pregnant with Olivia - shocked I didn't have a 50lb baby)
NOW: 178lbs (changed my eating habits, cut out deserts after 7pm, had one bought of the flu, hitting the gym as often as I can - about 2-4 times per week.)

So the battle continues, but at least I know what I need to do - whether I do it or not is up to me. I have only myself to blame if I create excuses for why I am not at my goal weight (which, by the way, is presently 155).

I like burgers. I like fries. I like milkshakes. I like cookies. I like Eggnog - so they will all be coming with me on this journey... and it means that I need to spend another 40 minutes on the treadmill at 4.5mph, so be it.

Otherwise, Jenn: Put. The cookie. Down.

(Upcoming Future Post: Fat girl trapped in a skinny body - The weight may be gone by it still sticks around