. . . regularly sitting down to a 3,000 calorie meal, feeling ill halfway through, and finishing the entire thing anyway. And ordering dessert.
. . . being the only heavy girl in a friend’s bridal party and feeling like a different species.
. . . believing I was destined to an unhappy life in the wrong body.
. . . settling for whatever pants fit, regardless of how they looked.
. . . realizing that I’d held myself back from auditioning because of discomfort with my physical appearance.
. . . feeling genuinely sorry for my boyfriends.
. . . reluctance to work out for fear that I wouldn’t be as “skinny.”
. . . playing every mental trick in the book to keep myself on the elliptical when I was bored senseless.
. . . tentatively walking upstairs to the weight room at my old gym with absolutely no clue what to do.
. . . believing that no matter how thin I got, I would always have to buy extended calf boots.
. . . psyching myself up to walk 3 miles.
. . . quitting as soon as failure became a possibility.
. . . letting the flimsiest excuses derail my workouts.
. . . trying on a wedding dress I loved (and almost bought) and leaving the store to cry in my car because I felt like it was too sexy for me and that I would look ridiculous.
. . . when burning lungs wouldn’t let me run outside for more than 2 minutes.
. . . having to watch myself in the mirror during my early Dailey Method classes and hating every moment of it.
. . . when running all the way around Lake Merritt without walking seemed permanently beyond my reach.
. . . wanting to punch a woman in class who was comfortable enough to look at her nails during thigh work.
. . . not being able to do a single push-up, even on my knees.
. . . when I would have straight up laughed at the idea of running in shorts or a short skirt.
. . . promising myself a special present when I could make it through an entire Dailey Method class without dropping a single repetition.
. . . considering many, many, many 5k dates and not registering because none of them felt right.
. . . assuming that once I got up to 6 miles in half marathon training, I would have to introduce walk breaks.
. . . gradually realizing that it was time to challenge my history and assumptions.
. . . deciding I wanted to change and proving to myself that it was possible.