If you think fat means unfit, you are wrong

I started CrossFit with the understanding that I was “a relatively young woman with the fitness of an unhealthy 68 year-old-woman.” Those are the words I was told. I was overweight, had just figured out the first two of many food allergies, couldn’t get my toes off the floor when I “jumped” and experienced constant, excruciating pain throughout my body, but especially my back and knees.

My doctor told me to try exercise. Not just for my physical health, but to manage my anxiety. I’m grateful every day because this is the same man who, after testing refused to reveal gluten allergy, told me to go off gluten anyway. “And you might as well go off dairy. It’s not really good for anybody.” (He was speaking of farming methods and additions in milk.)

He was right. I went off gluten and dairy. I’d had a minimum of 8 upper respiratory infections per year (or one chronic infection depending how you look at it). My asthma was out of control at random times with me waking up struggling to speak let alone reach my inhaler. And I struggled with getting back to the weight that I imagined would best support me. Going forward, please know I’m 12lbs over that weight and two sizes smaller than when I last achieved it. Why know this? Size and weight are not everything. They are not the determining factors in wellness for most of humanity. They are only two numbers.

Here’s the thing: my doctor recommended exercise AFTER I got my allergies under control. We went from chronic respiratory distress to two episodes a year, then one. And this year, none save exercise induced asthma and a nighttime cough throughout May due to pollen.

He did not recommend weight loss like the doctors in this article. He did not blame my weight first. He said I could benefit from losing weight, but never indicated that was a source of my pain or anxiety.

So I started at Hoosier Athletic Club with the goal of being able to jump. Maybe run 200 meters. Or even 100. To be able to pick up my children without throwing my back out and having to endure yet another round of physical therapy or visit my chiropractor.

At this time I was also experiencing inflammation in my joints, my knees hitching or simply letting go, numbness in my arms from my shoulders, constant neck pain, plantar fasciitis, general pain walking, fatigue, breathlessness and disabling anxiety and depression.

I like to talk about “the weight that’s best for my knee.” Due to a basketball injury, my left knee has no cartilage. I was never given physical therapy and lost my place on my basketball team due to slow recovery and weight gain. When I asked my coach to help me by putting together a plan as she did with another girl on my team with the same injury, she told me “it wouldn’t’ be worth it.”

Bear with me because I know this is a long post. I have a point (or three). It is that as in the above linked article, I was not considered by coaches and doctors and capable of or worth rehabilitating. Over the next 18 years, I lived a battle with my body that included disordered eating, self-harm, depression, anxiety and low self-worth. But at 32 with three kids and a doctor who not only paid attention to my symptoms and history, but told me it wouldn’t hurt to try, I gave myself a chance.

That September, I showed up for the Hoosier CrossFit OnRamp. My husband tested the waters, completing a cycle of the three-days-a-week for one month class. Bless this husband willing to test the waters knowing for me, there’s nothing as frightening as starting something new. Like my guy, I was instructed in functional movement by coaches who never said I could not do something. Instead, they took into consideration what I could do. They built from there. And after 8 months I could run 400 meters. I could jump rope. I could jump 30” onto a box. I was doing toe pushups for the first time in my life. I was able to lift more than my body weight.

That translated to playing with my children. Walking without pain. Some weight loss, yes, but more muscle gain. I had better breathing, better recovery and a better life.

And then a routine procedure caused me to go septic. I nearly died. Swelling/bloating completes the partial abdominal herniation I’d experience during pregnancy. Five more surgical procedures later including an abdominoplasty to hold me floundering abs together and a hysterectomy to remove my damaged uterus, I was back at square one with my health and fitness.

My coaches, Shaun and Jenna Tieman, told me to come back the gym. My doctor reminded me that exercise eased the depression and anxiety that had only gotten worse since that first procedure. It took me two years to commit, but I finally headed back to Hoosier CrossFit to begin again. And I did it with whiplash from a car accident that had resulted in, once again, severe, chronic neck pain.

Eight months later I’m in better shape than I have ever been. I started with two days a week and moved to five. I will begin seven classes per week next month to work on running, an exercise I was specifically told I would never be able to do. Here’s the thing: my original ability my first go at CrossFit was to huff and puff 50 meters, not the 200 I was longing for. Then surgeries. Recoveries. Restarting. Yesterday I ran a full mile, completed 10 rounds of 5 push-ups, 10 pull-ups and 15 air squats, then ran at least half of a second mile. New goal: run two miles.

Today, my knees do not hurt. I had patellar support and knee sleeves I learned about at the gym for added stability. My arms do not hurt despite working to failure with (around 60) toe push-ups before switching to knee push-ups. I scaled my pull-ups by using resistance bands. Additional new goal: pull-ups with no resistance.

Hey, I’m not done here. The thing is, the workout I completed? When prepping for it I was recovering from a torn tendon in my arm after breaking three fingers on my other hand. The doctor who checked out my hand and arm told me not to use them. I’d need to stop exercising. But the beauty of CrossFit is that for 6 weeks, I did it without one hand. For another 8, I did it partially without one arm. And that two month stretch when I relapsed into anorexia? I did feel ashamed, but I trusted my coaches enough to let them know. They said keep coming. Even if you’re just walking and watching. And I did.

Each day my coaches assessed what I COULD do rather than what I couldn’t.

And so, after invasive surgeries with difficult recoveries, freak-accident injuries (not gym-related) and more, I actually feel as good as I did at 14 when I was a year-round state swimmer and played basketball and volleyball. In fact, I can now run a faster mile.

This happened because my doctor looked at my chart and at me and didn’t see “fat” and “can’t” even when I was fat and couldn’t. He didn’t see my weight as the reason I was struggling. It never was. For me, weight gain was a symptom of a different struggle. For others it is a symptom of nothing. Being fat, having fat does not mean we can’t or shouldn’t. It is not the root of all evils. It’s a way of being in which some human beings, such as some pretty damn fit (far fitter than me) CrossFitters, exist.

Do I need to point out here that you can be thin and unhealthy? Because at my lowest weight, which also happens to be my “ideal” weight as proposed by the medical industry, I was anorexic, struggling to not faint at school and exercising constantly.

I want to end this by saying that had I not stumbled upon a doctor who looked at me first rather than my chart, this would not be my story. Instead of telling you I now love my scarred, imperfect body, that I can manage depression and anxiety by challenging it physically daily, how I can run around with my kids and explore without suffering, I would be looking at a knee replacement. Yep, that was suggested to me by doctors (PLURAL), too. 22 years post-initial injury I’ve finally experience recovery. My knee is better than it has ever been. All it took was encouragement from a doctor who didn’t blame my weight, and support from coaches who saw potential where so many others saw inability.

Moral of the story: look for what’s right instead of what’s wrong. And stop fat-shaming. Fat=unhealthy/not trying/etc is a lie.