When fitness had failed me!
My “fitness” journey started 20 years ago when, like many of you, I joined a gym, because that seemed to be what the masses were doing.
I was getting in some cardio on the elliptical when a male trainer approached me. He asked how it was going and commented that I would look amazing if I lost a few pounds and gained some muscle. WTF, right? I will never forget that day because that was the day that changed my life, and changed me.
With that small but mighty comment, so began a 20 year battle with fitness, food and my body. Who would have thought one little statement could hold so much power? Not me.
In an industry so filled with beautiful possibilities it makes me sad to see how toxicity slips so easily into the culture. Whether it’s subtle like my experience or as extreme as an advertisement promising you an unbelievable 8 week transformation, it’s all equally damaging. If any of this resonates with you or brings up some big feelings, it’s ok. Speaking from my experience and from my heart, there IS a better way to achieve a sustainable and healthy version of you while building an amazing, positive relationship with fitness, food and your body.
I was perfectly, pleasantly……average
I would never have described my body as “skinny” or “big”. I honestly just felt “average” and I was really okay with that. Like every one of you, I sometimes would look in the mirror and think “my hips are big” or “my body looks funny”, but to be honest, it was always just a fleeting moment, the thoughts came in, and then left pretty quickly.
I hired that trainer
I ended up hiring that trainer, you know, the one who criticized my appearance by preying on female insecurities, great sales tactic, by the way.
We worked out 3x a week with weights and I very quickly saw my body change. I was really enjoying weight training and my time in the gym. The added bonus was that I was all of a sudden getting a lot of attention on my external appearance. My body had NEVER been praised like this, it was addictive and like any other addiction, I wanted more….I thought I needed more.
Both men and women, from people I knew to perfect strangers, all were pumping me up and It quickly became my driving force for exercise and ultimately fuelling my addiction.
The muscle definition. The body.
ALL
THE
PRAISE
Was it actually possible that I was starting to look like those girls on the cover of fitness magazines? The fitness industry was feeding every single one of my insecurities, and it tasted so good.
I was making the cut
I never actually noticed that with all of my hard work I was getting stronger. No one, including my trainer, seemed to take notice how strong I had become, or the fact that I could do a pull up, a freaking pull up!! It was seemingly insignificant to the fact that my back looked so muscly, while doing those pull ups. No one commented on how strong my core was when doing those squats, rather, that coveted 6-pack seemed way more important. The world of fitness became, for me, all about what showed up on the exterior and nothing more. Sound familiar?
I started weighing myself daily for validation. I was addicted to the feedback I was getting from that square piece of metal on my bathroom floor. It had so much power and would ultimately determine my mood for the day and week ahead and gave me the feedback of whether I was successful or not. What it didn’t tell me was how good I felt in my clothes or how much newly found energy I had and how absolutely great movement made me feel. I had become so strong and none of that mattered and if that isn’t toxic and unhealthy, I don't know what is.
A tiny little voice
It wasn't long before another male trainer approached me and recommended I enter a fitness competition, “You'd do well” he said. Not sure how he could have made that assessment from simply looking at me but I guess that only further demonstrates how unhealthy this supposed “healthy” world actually was.
I will admit, there was a tiny little voice in the back of my mind that nudged me and said “I’m not sure about this”, but perhaps because I was getting so much attention, or because I didn't have the confidence or “self-love” or real strength, I said ok, let’s do it.
I said yes.
I was immediately given a diet plan, which was written out on a piece of paper right in front of me (that should have been my waring signal). It was a standard, bodybuilding cookie cutter template consisting of egg whites, chicken, broccoli, sweet potatoes, brown rice, protein powder, white fish and occasionally some nuts.
Macros and calories would vary from week to week, but not much changed. I was told to weigh and measure all my foods and was given a strict guide for my caloric intake. If I stepped even an inch outside of this plan, I was “cheating”and was made to feel like I failed. I was handcuffed to 1200 calories a day with the super added bonus of one day where I would be permitted a few “extra carbs” – wow, thanks. That piece of paper was running my life, my mood, my decisions and how I felt about myself. It had me obsessing about food, secretly binging and purging on cookies or cake and then feeling so much guilt and shame. I would often write my trainer in distress about falling off the plan and was instructed to add an extra cardio session to make up for it, even if it meant a third workout for the day. I officially had an eating disorder and hated fitness.
My exercise program was written out for me each month. It included 6 days in the gym, 2 workouts a day. 1 hour of cardio in the morning on an empty stomach and weights in the evening focused on different muscle groups. I was allowed 1 rest day. ( PS - have you ever heard the expression - less is more? I'll talk about this in another article)
I was given 12 weeks to prepare for this competition which included weekly check - ins and weigh ins. I continued with my trainer 3x a week and was often asked if I was being good on my diet and if I was doing all my cardio.
Sometimes I would tell the truth, often I would lie. The truth is, I was burnt out and hurt all over. I hated every minute of my workouts. My midsection was often checked to ensure I was on point for that six pack. That fear was quite often enough to keep me strict as well the reality that my body was soon going to be judged on stage, in a bikini, against 30 other women. As if wearing a bikini to the beach isn't hard enough! My body image was destroyed, just like that. I didn’t even know what I was dealing with was considered “disordered”.
I was so tired.
I was exhausted. I was overtraining and starving most of the time. I developed horrible insomnia. My period stopped, but damn I “looked so good” so all of that was ok. I would complain to the trainers at the gym how tired I was and that I wasn't sleeping yet they kept encouraging me along, saying I was almost there and looking good.
Competition day.
Competition day arrived, I was 14 percent body fat, and 119 lbs. I was spray tanned, had my pink bejeweled bikini and those gawd awful clear glass heals you had to wear. My face looked awful, so depleted and so tired. None of that mattered because all the stage lighting and make up and curls would cover all of that up. I was the perfect picture of beauty and strength that inspired other women.
I was so nervous.
I will never forget that day. I was so nervous. I vividly remember sizing up my competition and all I could think was “I don't measure up”, “they have more muscle than me”, “she's prettier than me”. They were with their coaches practicing their stage walk and poses. Part of me felt disgusted and like I really didn’t belong there….but I had come so far……
Who had the best ass?
In preparation for this fitness “competition” I was told that a six pack was great, but the defining moment I really needed to be focused on was that moment you turn around and show the judges your ass. Here I was, 12 weeks of KILLING myself all came down to whether a panel of judges thought my “ass” was the best……
I placed 3rd among a lineup of 20 women. I was devastated but was eager for the feedback from the judges. They told me I needed to gain more muscle and lean out even more. I felt like such a failure I immediately became tempted to head down the road of steroids that I knew many were involved with. Thank god I somehow knew better....
Enter the addiction
I went on to repeat this cycle for 6 more years. In that time I competed in 6 more competitions, never walking away with a win. I appeared in fitness magazines and through all of this, continued to destroy my body, my mind and ultimately my relationship with fitness. My weight rebounded by nearly 20 lbs after each show and my self-hate grew stronger and stronger each time. I was full on in the binge/purge cycle and used exercise as my punishment.
Where were “my” people?
During this entire time, in my fitness community, I didn’t have one single source of positive influence to help me see how destructive and damaging this was. I was feeding a billion dollar industry exactly what they needed. There weren't any of the fiercely dedicated body positive advocates I surround myself with today who would have kicked my ass and helped me see how toxic these habits and behaviors were. I did, however, have one very special soul who was part of my personal life and provided that one constant voice, which for a long time I fought to listen to. My incredible husband literally helped me turn this ship of insanity around. He cared so deeply about my wellbeing and was relentlessly committed to helping me regain control. He's literally my world and was the reason I was able to find the strength and courage to rebuild myself.
Not all bad.
Despite the years of struggle and despair, I can’t say it was all bad. After all, it launched me into a career I’m so passionate about that is part of my DNA and always will be. Although my intentions in the beginning were driven by the wrong reasons, it catapulted me into a never-ending pursuit of growth, learning and using the damage and heartache to fuel my passion and help others from making those same mistakes. For a long time, I felt ashamed and embarrassed of my career in fitness and calling myself a “fitness professional”. But today I only feel gratitude for the unconventional, less than ideal journey I took to get where I am because it made me so much smarter, and humble and gave me the focus I needed to create the space we have at MOVE.
Any of this sound familiar? Aren’t you sick and tired of a woman's worth being judged by her physical appearance? Be it your own judgment or others? It’s 2019. Enough of this ladies!
My Team and I are here to actively and passionately be a part of the change and create a movement of warriors dedicated to changing the internal question from “how do I look” to “how do I feel?” In our opinion, far more important than how a woman's ass looks in an Instagram post, no?
With Love,
Kelly xo
