Battle of the binge!

One day I was researching something for a client and came across information about binge eating disorders and it hit a nerve.

According to definitions, my eating has been pretty symptomatic of a binge eating disorder which can be characterised as (courtesy of reachout.com):

feeling that your eating is out of control

eating what most people would consider to be a large or excess amount of food on a regular basis

eating to the point of feeling uncomfortable

eating large amounts of food, even when you are not really hungry

being secretive about what is eaten and when

being embarrassed by the amount of food eaten

feeling disgusted, depressed or guilty about overeating.

I also feel like I have a tendency towards addiction. I find when it comes to food (and alcohol) I act a lot on compulsion and without thought. I'd find myself thinking 'HOLY SHIT! I'm not actually sure how to stop eating'.

All these problems came to a head when I got back from India. There was so much food I was looking forward to eating (I can't tell you how much I missed dried fruit...of all things?!), so much alcohol I'd missed out on drinking (which I consumed enough of in Goa but apparently it wasn't), so much exercise I could do that would justify the eating and drinking I'd be doing (remind me to tell you about the circuits I used to do in our 30 degree room with no fan, my poor room mate)! Well, apparently not! There wasn't enough exercise I could possibly do that would make up for the drinking and eating I was about to get up to! I started to develop fantastic skills when it came to training with a hangover, it's a fine art I'm happy to say I perfected then stopped ('Thanks Sal' -Your liver).

I've never come back from being away and been so miserable. My poor Mum met me at the airport, so excited to have me home and all I could do was cry miserable tears.

Adjusting to being home, no longer being in a relationship and getting back in to the swing of things started all kinds of bad habits. I was drinking until I was sick every weekend (BIG Thanks to everyone who tolerated my crazy antics during this time - spew, tears and all..you know who you are- I loves ya!), I was eating whatever I felt like (I'm pretty sure I personally financed the CEO of Allens lollies income for a while there!), I was eating how ever much I felt like and I seemed to have lost all motivation and control that i had before I'd left for India.

Only in the past month or so (more than a year since I left for India) have I started to feel in control again. Balance is something that I find really difficult. I decided that I would use as many resources as possible to reinstate some kind of stability in my life.

At the moment, I use an app on my phone to document everything I eat and drink, I record my workouts on a watch that measures the intensity of my work out (as well as calories burnt and heart rate), I keep a diary and now I'm writing this blog.

These are helping somewhat but I still struggle with feelings of guilt and reward around food...

I'm trying to narrow down what it was that worked so well when I initially started training with Paul and Cind. Stay tuned for what I've narrowed it down to!

Eating, Boxing, Sleeping, Boxing, Boxing, Boxing, Boxing!

As I mentioned before, I've started going to amateur boxing class. Starting this was no easy feat. Although I've been going to fitness boxing classes for some time now, walking into an amateur boxing class with fitness boxing skills only really helps a little bit.

Admittedly (and I conjured up all these feelings in my head) for the first time I felt disadvantaged my my gender. The majority of the class is made up of men most of which have fights under their belt. Who on earth am I to walk into this class?! So the first class I hid for the majority of the time in the bathroom then didn't acknowledge anyone and just punched the bag for 5 rounds and ran out again (are these traits indicative of some kind of personality disorder?...should I be unveiling these on the Internet?). The second class (I say class, I wasn't really participating in the class, I was sidling in while pretending I wasn't actually there, wasn't I!) went much the same. I sent my brother an essay (via text msg, the most convenient way to send essays) about my insecurities/anxiety/madness and once again his wise words of encouragement pushed me to talk to the class trainer on a personal level because the trainer is quite shy. Huh!? I thought I was the shy one! So 'continue I shall' I thought to my bruised ego.

The third class however, I ran into another girl that goes to the fitness class (giant exhale of anxious relief into the universe of exercise) and although she and I have never really crossed paths before, we were able to partner up and do a bit of touch sparring and I'm now (internally) eternally grateful to her because her bold, confident personality has allowed me to be able to talk to the trainer and be part of the class, rather than standing on the outskirts.

I've now met some really cool people and my initial anxieties are fading (gradually). For motivation I've been watching women do gloriously strong things. I've been watching this on repeat...what incredible women!

In reflection, it was never about gender, because everyone in the class has shown me that its not about gender, its about showing up, giving it a try and being open.

White Girl in the Ring Tra-la-la-la-la

I've been boxing (and I use the term 'boxing' loosely) since I started my fitness journey (I know everyone tries to avoid the word journey but it’s just so fitting. Alternatives include: path, process, experience, adventure - none of which seem to convey what I'm trying to say...journey it is!).

My brother, who is an incredible athlete, poured his heart into boxing for some time (cough *11 fights undefeated* cough *state champion* cough) decided the best way he would help me gain my fitness/lose weight/improve my health would be to teach me to box. The process started slowly with a little boxing here and there.

I fell in love with boxing for fitness. And I had an incredible instructor. After a while, I was even developing some technique/skill. I slowly found myself watching boxing films, documentaries and whatever else I could get my hands on. For the first time in my life I enjoyed a sport and felt like I was alright at it (or so I thought).

Now I'd never really been to a gym or fitness class before and those of you who are unfit or over-weight will know how intimidating something like this can be. It had come to a time where my fitness was at a stage that I could do exercise a bit more independently. My brother (did I mention how incredibly supportive he's been...I get overwhelmed by everything he's done for me and have to send him lengthy grateful text messages every 3 or so weeks) came along to the first class with me so I 'd feel confident in the class. I certainly wouldn't have gone if he hadn't gone along with me that first time.

So then it came to going to the class on my own. I'd been to uni that day. I remember coming home and climbing in to bed and being overwhelmed by anxiety. It sounds ridiculous but I felt paralysed by the thought of going to the class without Paul and letting all these strangers see how unfit I was. When I had just about decided that I couldn't go to the class, Mum walked past my door and I burst into tears. She was lovely and supportive (as she always is, all gloriously and British and full of kind, calm words) and convinced me that it would be ok.

I pulled myself together and headed off to class. The girls at the door remembered me for being Paul's sister and greeted me with big smiles and the trainer running the class made sure I had a partner that would help me through the class. One class and I was hooked.

I still go to the classes 2 years on. It now has a new trainer, but the same friendly faces are still around and I still love the class as much as I did when I first walked in with my brother. But it got me thinking...if I love a sport this much, why not try and become the best at it that I possibly can. I told the trainer I wanted to spar and am now going to the same amateur boxing classes Paul used to and although it's all very new I'm very excited about boxing as much as possible.

And so it begun..

It was around 2 years ago. I sat on the floor of my bedroom, crying uncontrollably. I knew something had to change. I'd been insanely sick with glandular fever, and feeling depressed and anxious I knew I had to reach out to someone and ask for help. I couldn't convince myself that I was happy being a 'big' girl anymore. I weighed over 100kgs, had no idea of healthy balanced eating habits and did little or no exercise. I couldn't hide my sadness any more.

I decided to send a message to my brother and his ex-wife. They're both keen exercisers with personal training experience. I remember writing the message and being so anxious about sending it I deliberately left my phone at home so I didn't keep checking my phone to see if they'd replied. I wrote something to the tune of "Paul and Cind, I need your help. I'm so unhappy with my body and lifestyle. I'm incredibly depressed. Please help!" and that they did.

I received replies of whole-hearted support. They both committed to train with me and support me to help me gain health and fitness while losing weight. I knew that if I was going to do this, I'd have to listen to all the advice they had to offer, be open and honest with them and do my very best to make them proud.

It started with exercising with either of them 3-4 times a week. During this time we'd talk about goals, healthy food habits, keeping food diaries, bad habits that I had..it was an opportunity to explore and understand my relationship with food, my relationship with my body and my relationship with my self esteem.

I would talk to one of them about different things. I would talk about being teased for being over weight, about finding exercise difficult, about achievements, about failures. I would sweat, cry, yell and complain and they stood by me through the whole process. I enjoyed varied workouts with Cind while Paul taught me all he knew (which was a lot) about boxing (which I gained a huge passion for).

Now 28 kg lighter, I am eternally grateful. I have a new lease on life. Exercise is my hobby (I never thought I would say that) and I enjoy a sport so much that I would do it everyday if I could. Paul and I have now stopped training together (a sad conclusion for me as we have become so close through this experience) and I have applied to a training course (certainly never thought I'd do that!) in the hope that I can offer people the same experience that Paul and Cind gave me.

 

So I now recognise that I've moved into the next phase of my fitness journey and although I haven't satisfied my fitness/weight loss goals (I'd quite like to fight, I'd quite like to lose another 10kgs), I know what can be achieved and I know what is out there and I endeavour to share the next part of this journey with you all.