October 10, 2012 by mybattlebuddyfitness
Hello, world! My name is Elisabeth Meany and I am a happy wife, a proud doggy mom, a certified personal trainer, and a fitness enthusiast. I have decided to put my story out here in the blogosphere in the hopes that I can help some of you out there. This is a blog for anyone- are you wanting to discover health and fitness for the first time? Do you need to reintegrate health and fitness into your life? Are you looking for some new motivation? Do you just want to be entertained by the ramblings of a self-identified super-dork? You’ve come to the right place. Stick with me. My goal is to show you some new things, and hopefully inspire you to get up, get out, and break a sweat! I promise you’ll feel better.
I suppose I should start with my story. Four years ago I was fat. No, really. I think somewhere between a size 12 and a size 14, I crossed the line. I wasn’t chubby, or buxom, or curvy, or any of those lovely words people use to describe those of us with extra padding. No, I was fat. As a side note, I am only 5’3″ and I have a very small frame, so a size 12 doesn’t look on me like it does on other women. Worst of all, I knew I was fat and I was very unhappy. I hadn’t always been fat. In fact, the road to those enormous pants was a very short one for me. I somehow managed to gain 50 pounds in the course of six months. I know, impressive, right?! I was living in Fairbanks, Alaska in a log cabin in the woods. It was winter and it was 40 degrees below 0…AND my husband (a Captain in the Army) was preparing for a 12-month deployment to Iraq. The conditions were not optimal for being thin. My body was craving fatty food, and I was obliging it. Shepherd’s pie, homemade baked macaroni, pasta smothered in creamy sauces. My arteries (and my waistline) were crying out for help, but I put some earmuffs on and continued to stuff my face.
After my husband left for Iraq, I took a visit to the doctor. I had convinced myself that my current weight predicament was due to something that I couldn’t control- thyroid problem, chronic fatigue syndrome, etc. After running some blood tests, my doctor sat me down and looked at me square in the eyes and said, “You have gained 50 pounds in six months. You are tired because you’re carrying around so much extra weight.” Whoa. I totally needed that wake-up call. I went home, made myself a chili dog, and signed up for Weight Watchers. The following day I began tracking my points online and I started running again. It wasn’t fun at first. I won’t lie. I ran so slowly, and for the first time, I experienced chafing because my thighs rubbed together (ugh, sad). Whereas before, I was hiding from mirrors, I suddenly became keenly aware of how out of shape I had let myself become. I would walk past windows and not even recognize my own reflection. I remained consistent though, and I lost weight at a steady 2-3 pounds per week.
I had to re-train my brain. After allowing myself to indulge in fatty and sugar-laden foods, fruits and veggies tasted bland and boring. But it didn’t take long until I found them appetizing again. I learned that when you’re hungry enough, a large salad looks pretty scrumptuous. And after a couple of months, my body started craving the things that were good for me. I signed up for my first half marathon and the pressure of getting through those 13.1 miles was enough to keep my fitness on track. By the time my husband returned from Iraq in September of 2009, I had lost every last one of those 50 pounds and I was a much healthier, happier, and prettier version of the lady he left a year before.
In June of 2010, we moved to San Francisco, CA and I earned my personal training certification and became a trainer. When I first started as a trainer, I had no idea how much I would love it. The feeling I get when I watch people accomplish things they didn’t think were possible, is amazing. My time in San Francisco acquainted me with so many wonderful people who helped foster my passion. It was the greatest two years of my life for many, many reasons–these stories will come later, don’t you worry. Now, I live in rural St. Robert, Missouri. I haven’t given up on my goal to help America get healthy. I am on a mission. I am not completely sure where this mission will take me, but I am starting here in this little town and with this blog. I have high hopes, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds.