Let the Weight Training Begin!!

I went out and bought a set of free weights, a bench, and a book on how to weight train and set up my mini gym in the furnace room of our house. It was a tiny room in the basement of our 1946 house; I’m talking tiny, with no window, and seriously just enough room, length wise to fit the bench and myself in it! I have a slight case of claustrophobia, so I would have to go out every time I was finished with a set, just so I wouldn’t begin panicking! I mention the inconvenience and smallness of this room, just in case you have that excuse floating about in your head, (no room to workout); whatever, it is a lame one, make your space work for you!

I then enrolled in a six week weight lifting class at the local gym and I was on my way! After I had lost about thirty or so pounds and felt like I could muster up enough confidence to go to the gym and work out next to the experienced lifters and exercisers. I began working out in the early mornings before the rest of the house was awake. I don't remember how long it took me to lose the sixty or so pounds, longer than the usual time allotted because I was no longer starving myself but trying to eat more, so that I had enough calories to exercise. But I do remember that when I had finally gotten back into the smaller size clothes that I owned, and for the very first time ever, I didn’t feel like I had come to the end of something; it wasn’t the end of my latest diet, my latest starvation mode; yes indeed, my thinking had changed! Another important realization I had arrived at; I no longer needed to be attached to a number on the scales.

As I began to retrain my physical body to get stronger, I also began retraining my mind to find other ways to look at health versus diet, lifestyle versus phases of binging and starving. I was lifting and adding muscle mass to my body, replacing fat with strong, hard muscle, which weighed twice as much as fat. For that reason, I knew that if I attached every feel good feeling to a number on the scales, I’d be forever fighting a number and not how I felt about myself. I began looking at my body in a whole new way. I began noticing that certain parts, my waste, my thighs, my calves, all of those areas began pulling in, getting smaller the more I worked out. At the same time I noticed the number on the scales was climbing a bit; for someone like me, who used to live and die by a number, I realized I had to stop looking for that golden number and begin going by how I looked in my clothes. I came to the conclusion that the only time I would ever again put myself on the scales, (other than regular physical checks by the doc), was if I began to feel like my clothes were getting tight, or if I just felt I was putting on a few extra pounds. That is all I ever use the number for now, just to keep in check so that I don’t begin climbing a hill too high and I can regain control before I get too out of control.