I will never be a size 2

Today I went to the gym, like usual, and knew to expect the resolutioners (those who vow to lose weight and crowd my gym equipment for all of one month then disapear); however, I did not expect to have a realization because of one of them.

Lets start with me breaking a sweat on the tredmill, cruising right along, people watching, when a girl no older than twelve and, who I presume to be her mother, get on the tredmills in front of me. This is when three thoughts hit me (1) why is there a tweleve year old who is ad skinny as a twig at the gym, (2) why is her mother touching her speeds, and lastly (3) wow that was me not too long ago.

My mother has had me on some sort of diet since I was ten, whether it be weight watchers, atkins, south beach, which ever it was, it was meant to help my sister, my mother, and I. Let me make it perfectly clear, none of us were ever over weight or obese. I have been participating in competitive sports my entire life and was alway active; yet I was obessed with my weight.

So obsessed that I eventually formed an eating disorder. I wouldn't eat for days, I would wake up at crazy hours to workout, I was playing on two soccer teams, and when I would eat (usually celeary) I always ended up throwing it up in the shower. I got away with it for a while, until my mother realized I was too skinny.

DON'T THINK I AM LOOKING FOR PITY OR THAT THIS IS A SAD BLOG, BECAUSE IT IS NOT, JUST KEEP READING!!!!

After years of therapy, I was cured (meaning: I always thought about the food I was eating and the calories and the possibility of the toilet yet I never did it relapsed into old behaviors). Slowly my obsession of weight turned to an obsession with working out. I became an avid runner. I ran mile after mile and then I would be at the gym for an additional hour. This might sound extremely healthy and a lifestyle that many long to have, but it is in no way healthy. Yes, I was skinny and in the best shape of my life, but if I did not get in the number of miles I wanted or the hours of gym time that I wanted I would panic and become upset. Upset to the point of tears and hysteria. On vacations working out was a priority, before going out with friends running came first, and before school work I needed to do so many repititons. I was that tweleve year old girl obssed with her weight and physical appearance at the gym today.

I have to confess, I ran for twenty minutes today and craved a cookie the entire time! I am no longer the girl who counts calories or works out for half of the day. I have not counted miles for four months. I've gained 10 pounds (5 of which I have lost since I am home on break). I run with my dad (9:00 minute miles compared to my 7:30 miles) and at most we've only done 3.5 miles. I eat what ever I want without thinking twice. I had that cookie when I came home from the gym (plus two others) and I enjoyed every single delicious bite.

I am finally happy with how I look and who I am. I realize now that I will never ever be a size two. I will never have a six pack and yet I am okay with that. I am completely happy and satisfied with my size 9 jeans and medium shirts. I am completely happy to be able to go out and eat something besides a salad and a diet coke. I am completely happy to look in the mirror and see curves and a smile on my face.