FROM FAT TO FIT (ISH)

I used to find myself getting really frustrated when anyone asked me how I got into fitness, and why, believe it or not, I would prioritise a gym class over the pub. I always felt people were either judging me for it, or waiting for me to fail and go back to my lazy old ways. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to shout across the table ‘it’s the only thing that stops me going mentally insane, so fuck off!’, so I just ended up shrugging and replying ‘dnno, I like it’. So, for those of you who have wondered how and why, your answer awaits, hopefully written in a slightly more eloquent way than my previous answers.

In the summer of 2016, I had returned home from my Gap Yarrrr having had the most incredible year. You'd think after this I would be happy, motivated and excited to start my life. Quite the opposite actually. I came home and crashed. Having dealt with minor mental health issues during my time at school, I assumed I knew what I was dealing with, but nothing could prepare me for the shit-show that was about to go down.

The people who know me, will be aware I am incapable of doing anything half-hearted. I am an all or nothing kind of girl, whether that's smoking, drinking, drugs or food. Moderation is not a word in my vocabulary and it is definitely one I have had to learn to incorporate into my life over a very long slow period of time. My mental health has always been directly affected by my weight. I struggled with it through many years at school and have worn out every possible ridiculous fad diet that existed. From the 5:2 Diet, which actually works relatively well, to the 'No Carb No Sugar' diet which is definitely not sustainable long term, especially for a growing teenager with raging hormones, to the 'lets eat half an apple and a handful of grapes for a week diet' N.B. DO NOT TRY THE LAST ONE... that resulted in me fainting in a play rehearsal and having to go home for a week. Anyway, I think you get the point, my relationship with food was appalling.

I always knew doing exercise made me feel better, as this was something I had also become obsessive with at times too, running for an hour at 3 o'clock in the morning then going back to bed, only to do the same thing a few hours later (these phases only lasted a week or two before I crashed and gave up) hence, the never ending fluctuation of my weight! Each time I would lose a few pounds, then gain half a stone, and so it continued until I weighed a rather hefty, 12 Stone 9 Pounds. For someone with a naturally small frame and the height of 5 foot 3 inches, I was more like a round ball, although I became pretty bloody good at hiding it. So, after spending the majority of summer in bed, in floods of tears, slowly adding to the collection of scars on my hips (which are still there three years later), I started therapy. I had the most incredible therapist who deserves an entire blog post just dedicated to her. She specialised in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) and Eating Disorders, and if I hadn't met her I would probably still be in bed three years later.

As well as weekly therapy, I decided I was going to get back into the gym, not that I knew how to do anything other than kill myself on a treadmill but at least it was a start. I joined The Grange Leisure Centre in Midhurst, and made a deal with my mother that she would pay until I stopped going, otherwise I had to pay... errr no thank you. I decided gym classes were the best thing for me to do, and it wasn't like you were going to see me step foot in the weights area. HA! If younger me could see me now! Very quickly I grew to love going to The Grange. Now it must be noted that to this day, I am still not sure if I loved it, because of the so called endorphins that are released with exercise or, because there was a certain boy, Ben who I became completely and utterly infatuated by... readers, this happens a lot so don't take it too seriously! Anyway, I don't care which one it was because something back then triggered my brain and made me fall so in love with exercise that I still do it three years later, even if it took a 24 year old male personal trainer to inspire me, and my god did he do just that.

I started one-to-one boxing twice a week. I had a lot of anger and frustration that I needed to get out, and obviously, I also enjoyed spending time with Ben. A few months into these gym classes, I was slowly getting bored and they had run out of little free weights heavy enough for me to use. I had done every class possible, and as much as I loved hanging out with all the yummy mummys, I wanted to be pushed. Ben spent weeks trying to convince me to start weight lifting, my response was pretty much, 'you've got to be fucking joking, not a chance'. I was one of the many women who were convinced lifting weights would make you bulky, and thought the weights area in the gym should have a bold sign saying 'NOT FOR GIRLS', just like the delicious Yorkie chocolate bars I used to binge on (until The PC Police threw a hissy fit about Nestle's branding around 2011 and Yorkie had to change the apparently 'sexist' slogan!) anyway, before I start on a tangent about the joys of chocolate or a rant about the ridiculousness of the PC world we live in today, my point is, weight lifting was most definitely not an activity I would be participating in.

As you can probably tell, I gave in and I guess you could say, that first trial session with Ben in the terrifying weights area of the gym, was the first day of the rest of my life. It was love at first sight, a romance that could never be broken, and one that would never stop giving me what I needed. I spent a year with Ben as my PT and he taught me everything I needed to know about weight lifting. It started to feel like everything was falling into place, I had found something so special, that excited me more and more every day. I began to feel more calm, and of course, slowly started to lose weight too.

Now as I mentioned earlier, I am incapable of do anything in moderation, and the same thing happened with the gym. I became O.B.S.E.S.S.E.D. I started going twice a day, seven days a week. For anyone who knows anything about exercise, particularly weight lifting, will know that not allowing your body a rest day or two is actually totally counter-productive. Your muscles need time to rest and repair in order to grow, and you end up running yourself down to the ground, and those so called 'gains' everyone is trying to get, are not gained! My therapist clocked onto this obsession very quickly and over time we worked together to try and create a balance. After a year of training with Ben, I moved to Oxford to go to OMBS. I was completely terrified, not to start this new PA course I was doing, but because I didn't know if I was ready for such a change. I was comfortable at home, I had my new friends at the gym and healthy meals cooked for me by my lovely mother, so moving away scared the living daylights out of me. All I could think about is, 'What happens if everything I've worked so hard for over the last year just goes tits up and I can't sustain it whilst I'm at uni', but I guess it had to happen at some point, and moving to Oxford turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life to date.

This post could go on for another 10,000 words, so I will end it before I get carried away by saying THANK YOU! To Ben Banbury, who helped me more than he could possibly have known at the time. He was my trainer and is still a great friend, (yes readers, I got over the crush don't worry!) he dragged me out of a very shitty time and brought me into the world of lifting and I will be eternally grateful to him for that.

Lots of Love x

Ben Banbury Coaching - https://benbanburycoaching.co.uk