Who are you to judge?

I was walking with some friends last week, and we passed a bigger girl who was eating a piece of cake. One of my friends actually had the balls to say I hate that. Seeing big people eat bad food that they obviously do not need. She knows she shouldn't eat that cake, and she is doing it anyways.

He may have even tossed in a 'she's disgusting' - I can't recall - but he definitely called her 'back boobs'. 

Are you even kidding me!?! I was floored by how condemning and critical his comments were. And even more so by the fact that they came out of his mouth - someone who has only started living a healthy life in the past 2 years, who has lost 75lbs, and knows what it is like to be a bigger member of society.

Talk about judgemental. And a whole lot hypocritical, too.


Without knowing this girl, or her journey, I jumped to her defence in a big way. I cannot believe you would ever say such a thing, you jerk! Jesus, you were once just like her - eating food you knew wasn't good for you, but doing it anyways. Nobody can dispute that you deserve credit for having changed your life, and only you know the reason why food was your crutch, but the bottom line is that you don't get to judge and condemn her for her choices. You know as well as I do, that when you carry around that much extra weight, it is because food is your drug of choice, but unfortunately, everyone can see it. Where people with food issues wear their problems like a technicolour dreamcoat, people with alcohol, or drug problems can hide their vice from public eyes far more easily. You should be sympathetic towards her and the pain you know that she is probably in, and not be so fucking judgemental.


Safe to say, I was a bit pissed. And he ate humble pie for dessert that day.

Maybe I took his comments personally because I used to be just like her. Actually....for that matter, if you were to pass me on the street, without knowing me, how often I work out, and how much effort I put into making good choices for myself, you might consider me just like her still. This girl and I are built very differently, but we aren't that different.

That is what perception is all about, right? I do not look athletic, but I am more active than many people I know. But nobody knows my journey better than me...and nobody has earned the right to judge me for any of it. Not even a little bit.

Honestly, being overweight places you amongst one of the last socially acceptable discriminated groups out there. You can't be caught making genuinely unkind remarks about race, sex, age, or sexual orientation anymore. But if you're fat? You're fair game. And boy, do people like to play.

Without knowing, without understanding, and in most cases, without ever having been in their shoes, people judge overweight folks all the time. They assume that we are just lazy and eat too much junk food. They offer unsolicited, critical, pointed advice, and they make rude, hurtful comments. Behind our backs, and to our faces. For the record, we don't need anyone to tell us we have a 'fat ass'. We own mirrors, dickhead.

What gives you the right to judge anyone, anyways? Your journey and choices are yours. My journey and my choices are mine.

I have boycotted places like McDonald's for almost 3 years now, but I don't smugly sit upon my throne and judge people who still choose to eat there. I try very hard to choose fruit and vegetables over chocolate covered almonds, and choose popcorn over potato chips - every day, those are the decisions I have to make. But this is my journey, and those are conscious choices that work for ME. Perhaps that isn't what works for THEM or they aren't ready to try yet. In due time, if and when they are ready, they will do the work. Maybe ask for help, maybe not. And maybe they will never be ready to change, or they just don't want to.

Whatever the case, it isn't any of my damn business anyways.

Nor is it any of yours.

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J

10 Reasons Girls Shouldn't Lift Weights.

As. If.

1. You might break a nail.
2. You could even bruise a male ego or two.
3. You’ll eat properly and still be able to lose fat. Work of the devil!
4. You’ll look more like an athlete and less like a runway model. Skeletal is sexy, right?
5. You’ll be able to lift heavy things without asking a man for help, thus upsetting the balance of the universe.
6. You will be seen in public without high heels.
7. You’ll grunt, sweat and feel sore. So unladylike!
8. You’ll be proud of your pert bum instead of being self conscious about it like a normal woman.
9. You’ll be more active and confident instead of sitting around looking pretty. What are you, some kind of feminist?
10. You’ll be stronger, leaner and sexier – and we all know where that can lead!

Obviously a joke.
Stolen from Shay Sorrells - Biggest Loser season 8 contestant.
Re-posted by the girl who helped her boyfriend lift a 70-inch television onto the wall after he asked the boys for help, and nobody would do it.

Awesome!
xoxox
~J

I have a good heart.

I spent time with an amazing, patient, understanding and supportive friend this weekend. She has successfully talked me off the ledge of insanity with my slow breeding numbers obsession - as detailed in recent blog posts...

And in chatting with her, I remembered the thing that used to make me most excited about this new healthy lifestyle, I had forgotten.

My heart.

Shortly after I started working out and eating better in August 2009, I took my resting heart rate to find out that it was over 80 beats per minute - placing me in the 'poor health' category. I remember feeling ashamed, and discouraged by that number...not fully understanding what it meant, or knowing how to change it for the better.

And now?!? After learning to run, cycling until my thighs are on fire, and ellipticalling through endless songs, playlists, movies and Dexter episodes, my resting heart rate places me in the 'athletic' category.

You may never say it by looking at me, and that is okay....but you cannot dispute the fact that I! Jennifer Bennett! am athletic. Period.

Now that is one of the coolest things I never thought I'd hear myself say!

It also didn't go unnoticed that my physically healthy heart, is running parallel right alongside my much healthier emotional heart.


Do you know your resting heart rate?

xoxox
~J

P.S. Thank you J.T.

Hard work. Dedication.

Today marks 20 straight days of working out! 20!

20 days. And I feel great. Stronger. Prouder. Heart healthier.

In the past 20 days, I have burned 14 000 calories by exercising. Some of those earned calories I have eaten, some of them I have not.

With the exception of 'treat Fridays' (I don't count my calories on Friday nights), I have logged every snack, meal, and glass of water on myfitnesspal.

The reason I don't log Friday nights is to give myself a break from the madness of weighing, measuring and tracking. I also use that night to indulge a little bit. Maybe fulfill a craving I've been having all week. Sometimes that treat is Subway, sometimes it is pizza. But it is never a total knock-em-down-and-shovel-it-in-hand-over-fist-feast.

I have started taking a B complex vitamin to boost energy and metabolism, reduce the stress that I am sure I was placing on myself to get this weight off and also to replenish what I am probably losing by all this working out.

I took some flack for this 30-day challenge of mine. So I have promised some wise friends in the weight management and personal training profession that I will have some active rest days in there. As much as it annoys me to slow it down and take it easy for a day here and there, I understand the need for it and I have begrudgingly agreed to do it.

Stubbornly persist, and you will find that the limits of your stubbornness go well beyond the stubbornness of your limits. ~Robert Brault

I hope that you are awesome!
xoxox
~J

Apparently it's cute!?!

My guy is away in Cuba right now. Probably on the beach and recovering from a night of debauchery with his best friends as I sit here with ugly winter boots on, bundled in layers trying to stay warm in minus 30 degree Celsius (minus 23 Fahrenheit) and write this.

-It is the 11th annual Boyz Trip.
-No girlz allowed.
-My first time being one of the girlfriends of one of The Boyz.

I will admit that I was nervous about it before he left. Although I am not entirely sure why. Insecurities? The unknown? All my own stuff, I know...
We are still relatively fresh in this relationship, and the blind unwavering trust that he has in me? I don't know what that is. And it makes me feel kind of sad to say that I don't have that in anyone. ANYONE.
A learned coping mechanism that I am working on...like everything else.

As the week has gone by, I have passed my time at the gym, out for dinner with a friend, a few appointments, some Dexter, a lot of Coronation Street, sleeping! I have relaxed into the groove of doing my own thing on my own time, staying in my bed alone every night, annnnnnnnd.........missing him.

Yesterday at lunch, the following happened:

Ry-Ry: When does the boyfriend get back?



Me: So excited! 4 sleeps! *sulky face* I miss him.


Ry-Ry: That's sweet! It's cute!


Me: No way! I feel like a frigging girl! Ugh!


Ry-Ry: That's okay Jenn. It is nice to see you like this, it's good to miss him. It means you love him. And you usually have your shield up so high.

Oh my. Big sigh. And here I thought I was such a mystery to people!

But it's cute? Really?!?

3 sleeps!!!

xoxox
~J

30 in 30.

With all the numbers that surround the weight loss journey - the current number on the fucking scale (excuse my language, but I kinda hate that thing), calories in, calories out, weights lifted, pounds lost, the date you started, the minutes you work out for....bah!!! I don't even like numbers for Christ sakes!

Well, here is a new number for you. 30.

I'm going for 30 days straight of workouts. And I'm not talking about any pansy-assed workouts here. Today was day 13, and my lightest day so far was both Fridays with Trainer Mike for 1 hour of weight resistance training.

Ever hear about Jerry Seinfeld's personal productivity incentive? He used a calendar, and every day that he wrote new material, he would mark that day with a big red X, creating a chain. He then became determined not to break the chain.

So for the next 17 days, I intend to do cardio 5-6x a week, work out with Mike 2x a week, and add a little bit of my own weight training at the gym using machines, just to change things up a bit. And each day that I work out, I mark it on my calendar at work...

Even with the sniffles, and a very full social life, and a full time job, I will make it to 30 days. No wimping out. No excuses.

And after that 30 days? I'm aiming for another 30.

If you're looking for me, I'll be at the gym.

xoxox
~J

If working out is the punishment...

Then eating supper is the crime.


If I heard someone else speak those words, I would be concerned about them, and their mindset about food. And exercise. But as I discussed with a close weight-loss-determined friend yesterday, this numbers game really does have the capacity to drive a sane person right. out. of. their. mind.


According to myfitnesspal.com, if I want to lose 1.5 lbs per week, I need to eat 1810 calories a day.


Seriously? 1810 calories?!?! That must be some sort of sick joke. Most days, by the time I am finished work for the day, I'm lucky if I have 100 calories left of that 1810. And I haven't even had supper yet!


So as far as I am concerned, and as sick as it may sound, if I want supper, I have to work for it. No exception. I either stay within that allotted amount, feel hungry and get cranky, or I work out and earn the extra calories.


That is how badly I want to be at a deficit on a daily basis. Is it determination? Obsession? Realistic? Maintainable? Attainable?
My mind never ever stops wondering these things.

Ever.

There isn't a single hour that goes by that food doesn't cross my mind. How many calories is that? what is my balance for the day? how hard does my workout have to be tonight? am I eating all my nutrients? can I have a treat? what's for supper?



Holy flipping hell, this is a time-consuming, rewarding, maddening, self-esteem-heightening, infuriating, muscle building, tedious, cardio-improving, emotionally draining, trial-and-error, learn-as-you-go,  resting-heart-rate-reducing and absolutely necessary on going process.

No matter what though, I won't stop until I reach my goal.

And if I have to work out so that I can eat, then so be it.

I think I can. I think I can. ~The Little Engine That Could

Have an awesome day!
~J

So Unsexy.

Sadly, I have always identified with the lyrics of this song.

Thankfully, as time goes by, they ring less and less true for me.
Guiltily, I can admit to occasionally setting my self-worth and confidence down, and forgetting where I put them for awhile.

Happily I can say that I am getting much better at finding them these days.
Lyrically, the last two lines are the key.

"So Unsexy"

Oh these little rejections how they add up quickly

One small sideways look and I feel so ungood

Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make

Me feel the way I thought only my father could

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful

So unloved for someone so fine

I can feel so boring for someone so interesting

So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me

One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated

Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me

Your hand pulling away and I'm devastated

When will you stop leaving baby?

When will I stop deserting baby?

When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections how they keep springing from me

I jump my ship as I take it personally

Oh these little rejections how they disappear quickly

The moment I decide not to abandon me

Have an AWESOME day!

xoxox
~J



From the inside out...

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

My boyfriend reads my blog.

I know this. I write like he isn't. Like nobody is.

In response to the post I made earlier today, this is what he just sent me:

A well-known speaker started off his seminar holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this." He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, "Who still wants it...?" Still the hands were up in the air. "Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now, who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air. "My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, YOU are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you. The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE. You are special-Don't EVER forget it."


I am one lucky lady.
Awesome!
xoxox
~J

Unconditional love.

Unconditional love is a term that means to love someone regardless of one's actions or beliefs. It is a concept comparable to true love, a term which is more frequently used to describe love between lovers. By contrast, unconditional love is frequently used to describe love between family members, comrades in arms and between others in highly committed relationships.

I am not all that familiar with unconditional love. I know what it is to give it out, but I don't know what it is to receive it. Not from my parents, and definitely not from any past lovers or boyfriends.

And because of this, I tend to live with the gnawing fear that if I don't say and do the right things all the time - behaving perfectly, standing strongly, losing weight continually, appearing confident always; the love I do have, will go away.

There. I said it.

This is a deep-rooted, dark, secret fear of mine. I have struggled with it, and against it my whole life. I have worked hard, set my own morals and desires aside, and I have given all that I have to experience unconditional love beyond that which I receive from my closest friends.

Now that I am pondering this, maybe I was hoping to receive this love from unhealthy people who are probably incapable of giving it? Seriously!? This light-bulb moment just occurred to me. I am so unbelievably happy that I didn't just spend $140 for an hours worth of therapy to figure that out!

*breathing a sigh of relief. i had always hoped it wasn't me. i was never really sure.*

My father. My mother. My ex. I wanted their unconditional love. I worked for it. Pleased for it. Longed for it. Did things I am not proud of to earn it.
I hate admitting that. It feels weak. But it is what it is. It is part of who I am was.

And now! Well, I am wading slowly into unconditional territory. Slowly, because it is hard for me to always trust it. Believe it. Hard to always trust and believe him.
Not because of anything he has done, but because of my voices, my limiting beliefs, my past, my sometimes debilitating insecurities.

I finally got the courage to ask him last week if he would still love me if I never lost another pound. A question that had been on my mind for awhile. Knowing that I will never regain all the weight that I lost, and that I may struggle and slide backwards sometimes, but torturing myself with the what if I am never any smaller than I am right now? What then? Will he love me?

My whole life, unconditional love was withheld from me, because of my weight. So when he answered my question with a 'Yes, I will still love you. Because I do love you. All of you.' I tearfully told him that I would work on believing it.

Exposing my darkest fears makes me feel weak, vulnerable, scared and exposed.
I hate (like really HATE) doing it. But if he and I are going to stand the test of time, I have to. Otherwise, he isn't getting to know the real me - scars, skeletons and secrets - as much as he would be sleeping next to a figment of my imagination, really.

And what good would that serve? I'm human. Therefore I am flawed.

But working on it.

Love me, love all my weak spots, too.

I hope that your day is awesome!
xoxox
~J

You are what you eat.

Without question, I have been working out enough to lose weight. I vary the intensity on that effing elliptical - being sure to play with the numbers, create goals, and change things up to keep myself from going insane, and keep my body from anticipating what is next. I work at a minimum level 3, through levels 5, 7, 9, and sometimes even go to the highest level of resistance - 14. Never less than 150 strides per minute - because for me, that isn't good enough. I make sure I sweat enough to see the numbers on that goddamn scale move downwards.

I weight train twice a week to gain much needed muscle and change my body composition. I love how strong I have become. Seeing new found definition in my arms and shoulders is a thrill. I know that the more muscle I have, the more calories I burn - even when I am not working out.

The scale isn't moving. Obviously, it is not the exercise that isn't working.

Which only leaves the food.

F*cking food: It is my nemesis. And yet I need it to survive. How fair is that?!?

I love food. I hate food. The foods I love most, are the foods that are the worst for me. And my ass. And my health. I think about food all the time. I try to make good choices, plan ahead, count, weigh, track, and measure. As often as possible, I avoid temptation. Sometimes I fail moderately. Sometimes I fail miserably. I never stop trying. There are still occasions when my emotions get the better of me, and I find myself turning to food for comfort. Trying to fill a void or stifle an issue that I cannot always identify right away.

So this is me, continuing to try.

Fresh, whole, clean, natural foods. Heavy on the water, zilch on the empty liquid calories. Increase in veggies, decrease in chocolate. And pub food. And cheese. Watch the sugar intake, limit the carbs, bump up the lean protein. No. White. Death.

I don't really do 'resolutions'...so this is me, keeping on trucking...

xoxox
~J

Christmas 2011.

Christmas holidays start off a bit rocky - navigating ex's, children, plans and schedules - you know the drill.

Christmas Eve with my besties - scallops and steak = YUM!

First attempts at stuffed meat of any kind. Homemade banana bread. 

Movies. Jammies.

Going to the movies with me in my jammies and he in his - bathrobe included!

Popcorn. Snowball fights. Walks in the Enchanted Barbie Forest.

Cuddles with an 8-year old cutie.

Great conversation.

Secret fears tearfully exposed. Cuddles-a-plenty with my guy.

Gym time. Dexter. Electronic free Thursday!

Intertwined feet. Reading. Snuggled in front of the fire. Jammies again. Naps.

Familiar road trips. New pubs. Baking cookies. Pretty purple pedicures.

More gym time. New Years Eve dinner.

Kisses at midnight.

Sneaky secret kisses after midnight.

Whole day in jammies, never leaving the house.

It was perfection.

And now it is back to reality.

Reality kinda bites.

xoxox

~J