In The Beginning...

How did I get to here? How did I get to the point that I know what I know? That I am the size that I am? That I am at the fitness level that I am?

The sad thing is that I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always overweight, or unfit. I didn't have overweight parents (extended family I'll get to later) While I was never 'happy' with my size, (blame being a teenager and not actually realising how slim I was), I was never unhappy. I was never one of those girls who stood in front of a mirror and picked her body to pieces detailing everything she didn't like. Even at my heaviest I never did it. I never really noticed my weight, or my size, or my body shape and sometimes, looking back, I wish I had. Not in an obsessive way, but just in a way that I could notice what I was doing to myself before I got to the state I was in.

I was always active. I always played sport. Anything and everything I could participate in I would.

So how did a slim, active girl become an overweight 20 year old?

I was always the 'slim' one of the family. My sister has always been bigger than me (although she is shorter than me too), and my female cousin on my mum's side was always overweight, even as a kid. I used to play every sport imaginable. Until I was 10 I did swimming club racing anything up to 6-7 races a week, and lived in the pool during the summer, I played tennis (both doubles and singles) and competed in Little Athletics. I was continuously on the move, even when I wasn't playing sport. We had a huge backyard with a swing set and trampoline, a kelpie cross cattle dog to play with, and a park with football field across the road. I used to do cartwheels and other gymnastic things (without ever having done gymnastics) up and down the backyard just because I could.

When my family moved I gave up swimming, tennis and Little A's but picked up gymnastics, netball and walking to school. I played on the high schools hockey team, and continued to play netball, but gave up gymnastics after I hit a growth spurt at 13. By the time I was 16, I stil played netball, but this was mixed in with studying for yrs 11 and 12, working a part time job and music lessons and band practice.

After a breakup with my first boyfriend at 16 from a serious relationship, I turned to junk food while I was a work to get me through the shifts. As I generally only worked a 4-5 hour shift, I only got a 10 minute break, so instead of getting an apple of something relatively healthy, I'd grab a bag of chips, or some chocolate, along with a bottle of coke and gulp it down before getting back to work. I also, like everyone I work with, picked at the food, because I worked in the deli section.

Slowly but surely I started to gain weight. I first noticed that my work pants were a little tight, but I put that down to the fact that maybe I was still growing, and I'd been in the same sized pants for 2 years (ignoring the fact that they were a loose 10 when I started). By the time my year 12 formal came around, I was a size 12, and not really noticing anything was wrong.

My first year of uni consisted of college food, sugar highs to get me through long nights of assignment writing and exam prep, and the only exercise I would do was to walk up the hill every morning for classes. I stopped playing sport, and couldn't be bothered to go and join the gym, no matter that I had friends that did (although it was in the middle of the last semester and I couldn't justify spending the money. Ironic isn't it?). Still was in denial about my weight problem, because I could still fit into my size 10 mini shirt (although it was a little tighter than before) and I had a boyfriend and friends and other things to worry about. At least that's what I told myself.

By the middle of my second year of uni, I'd lost a little bit, and had started going to the gym. I moved into self catered accommodation, but, being the first time for really fending for myself, I returned to eating crappy foods that, while not being terrible for me and not eating take away more than once a week, really weren't great for me either. However, I got a friend to come to the gym with me and we both fell in love with BodyPump and BodyBalance. We would do this probably 2-3 times a week and I loved it. It was the first real gym setting I'd been in and I was instantly enamoured with it.

By my third year I had gained even more weight, but was still only a 12-14. I picked up netball that year, and was still going to the gym, but I had lost my gym buddy and my motivation wasn't high. My eating habits were starting to get better though. The only conoslation with losing my gym buddy was that I picked up another one. Another friend and I were going to the gym twice a week and I was also doing BodyJam and BodyCombat with yet another friend. But the one coming to classes was likely to give an excuse as to why she couldn't come so I wasn't as consistent with it. If only I'd actually put some effort into the gym that year, maybe I wouldn't be where I am today.

During the September break in my third year I was discussing with my mum, all the health issues that run in my family. I have type 1 diabetes and heart disease on both sides, cancer on my dad's side, and obesity on my mum's side, although dad's family aren't exactly tiny either. It was then and there that I decided that I needed to look after myself. Not because of my weight, but because of health issues. I knew that I had put on weight because my size 14 pants were starting to be too tight and I refused to get a size bigger. I made a vow then and there that I wouldn't ever get past a size 14 (Aus). The first time I stepped on the scales I saw 90kg. I nearly cried. I stood there asking myself how I got there.

I had never stood on scales before and cared about the number that was showing before that day. Sure, I'd been on scales before, but I've been lucky that I never struggled with the teenage angst of feeling too fat, or not pretty enouugh, so, in retrospect, I guess that kinda led to me being where I am. I'm thankful that I never went through that faze, but if I could go back and do some things differently, I'd tall myself that it's not just about feeling good, but about being healthy as well.

When I saw a photo of myself at my sister's High School graduation formal I took a long hard look at myself and realised that I'd let it get too far, I'd become far too comfortable at the excuses coming out of my mouth, and took another look at my size 14 jeans, that were a little too tight, and decided then and there that I was never going to get bigger than I was at that moment.

I compared myself at my smallest (my yr 10 formal) and my heaviest (my 3rd year uni ball) and nearly cried again. I look like I have doubled in size. That high school photo is my motivation. I know that I will never be that exact size again, but if I can get close to it I will be happy.

I lost 10kg in that first year, although I didn't lose a pants size :( I am not sure if it's a good thing or not, but I put on, and lose weight, fairly evenly across my body so it takes a while for me to actually go down a clothing size. At the end of my 4th year of university I went to the USA for 3 months to work in a ski resort. It was a wonderful experience and I had an absolute ball. But, America is the land of fast food and I put on 5kg while I was there. (Not too bad, my sister put on the same while she was there and she was only there for 3 weeks!)

Enter a year of failing my university classes and deciding to put my degree on hold for 6 months, and I lost the 5kg I put on, but nothing more. At the end of that year I decided I wanted to become a personal trainer. I'd been lucky enough to have had a great trainer myself, and I saw that I could do this, and, more importantly, that I wanted to do this. This was a way of me being able to help people. I could understand where a lot of them were coming from. I could empathise because I'd been there.

So, enter last year. I moved to Sydney to do my personal trainers course. I was running again. I was walking everywhere. I was eating healthy again. I was losing weight. (Not in the numbers, but my clothes fit better and I felt better). I graduated with my master trainer's qualifications in the April, then I graduated with a B Arts in Psycholgy in the November.

And here I am. That's my story. Nothing heartbreaking, or life changing happened to me to make me put on weight. Just life, and bad choices. So, I am now on the journey (again) to fix it. To change my life and live it healthier and fitter than I am now. This is not about losing weight, although that will be a bonus. This is about a lifestyle change for the better.