I told myself when I created this blog I would be authentic and honest, so here it goes.

I think anyone who would be reading this knows of the “before” me (which really is the same as the “after” me just less fat). But in case you didn’t, here’s where I was at in 2011 vs. 2017(ish)

Anyway, 2021 marks the ten year anniversary of being on a downward/maintaining (with few exceptions) weight trend. It’s a very long story and if you want to hear the bulk of it you can listen to my podcast episode about it.

The long and short of it is I don’t try to over control my diet and just stay really dedicated to working out (for better or for worse). I knew there would come a day that I would get hurt or sick or whatever and wouldn’t be able to maintain the exercise bit, and I have always been deathly afraid of that day. Well… that “day” came when I got COVID in January.

Before I continue, I’ve been asked by doctors if I am like… resentful of the person who gave it to me. And the answer to that is a huge no. It was completely my choice to risk hanging out with a bubble of people and someone in that bubble happened to get it and didn’t have symptoms when we were together. I am pretty shocked I didn’t get it earlier (we lived in an apartment complex in Cambridge with a ton of MGH staff, for one).

I tested positive in mid Jan and over the course of the next few weeks teeter tottered from feeling like I was going to die and wanting to die. It was not fun at all, and very, very scary. I have a whole new empathy for people who have asthma. I don’t know how else to explain it, and this is a very dramatic way of putting it, but I almost feel like I have PTSD from not being able to breathe; any time I get out of breath I get really really anxious about it. I realize it’s not true PTSD, but I don’t know any other word for it. My lungs are still inflamed, but my lung xrays came out clear so no permanent damage and so did my heart EKG. All this to say, exercising has been really difficult.

My mentality for a while was just surviving; I would push any thoughts about weight behind me and focus on being able to walk up and down stairs, go grocery shopping, cook, just get back to living life. Eventually it shifted to, ok, when can I run again? Lift weights? And once I started living again and wearing real clothes… “My pants aren’t fitting very well…” “I’m scared to put on this dress I used to love wearing”. I was on the verge of asking Brian if I could do surgery because I couldn’t bring myself to go through the long process of trying to lose weight again. It was so mentally draining, and in last year I was finally happy with where I was at (Minus some muscle loss from not lifting) that thinking about getting there again and how long it would take was more than I wanted to handle.

I arrived in Hawaii in the midst of all this and you can imagine the amount of “perfect” bodies I saw. It’s really hard to get away from.

I was convinced I had gained at least 20lbs… between vacation and clothes not fitting and not being active for the last five months. I went to the doctor’s for an annual exam and they weighed me. I asked not to be told the weight… I really didn’t want to know the number. The nurse agreed and I went through the whole appointment without hearing. At the end, they print you a summary sheet, and I didn’t know my weight was on it… so I saw it. I am 2lbs heavier than I was in January.

I don’t know what to attribute that to; the amount of muscle I had gained, the amount of time I’ve been at this new set point, the subconscious habits/eating patterns I’ve ingrained… I really don’t. I know that things truly aren’t fitting as well, and that’s a loss of muscle into fat.

This was so mentally freeing, which I’m not proud to admit… it should be “just a number”. But when it’s a number you’ve worked hard for for ten years, it’s a number really, really hard to let go of.

With my new found confidence, I bought a bikini. Maybe I’ll post a picture of me in it, or maybe I’ll save it for strangers who I know I’ll probably never see again…

I also bought a ton of new clothes that work for Hawaii and that fit me very comfortably. I never feel like I’m squeezing in to anything. I’m a huge fan of these loft shorts. They zip but have stretchy section in the back. They pair well with these Luxelift Tanks from Knix which I love because they allow me to go “braless” (one less layer is helpful in keeping cool). They are a little form fitting but need to be to support, but when I wear them I don’t “feel fat”.

I’m back to lifting consistently at a gym by us and our home “gym” is 90% of the way done. I am going on week 4 of lifting 3x/week. I have a truly amazing coach Ted from my old Cambridge Gym (Achieve Fitness, RIP due to Covid) that has been helping me ease back into weightlifting. I’m not sure if he’s taking on new clients but he’ll know people who are if not. My legs are starting to feel strong again and I LOVE IT.

In an odd way, I actually feel like a load is off my shoulders… I haven’t felt pressured to run or hit the peloton or even lift. I don’t think I could go another five months of no purposeful activity without gaining weight, but I now have a lot more confidence in my body to not go immediately back to 2011 Sarah. I actually like that I can prioritize lifting and not be pressured to do that and fit in all the cardio I relied on for so long because it “burns more calories”. I guess to sum it up, I feel like I have more freedom. Freedom to Peloton or go for a sunrise walk… freedom to snorkel or go for a run. I have had a very hard time finding what good could’ve come from me having had COVID, but maybe this is it.

Thanks for hanging with me for this very personal post. I’m off to flex my photography muscles and take some family photos of a sub family leaving Hawaii (they are pregnant with their second!) This is my second family session I’ve ever done… here goes nothing! If they let me post a couple pictures I will.