To those who knew me in high school and college, the idea that I am now a health and fitness professional is probably laughable. I was a bookworm and a music geek, and liked nothing better than laying inside with a book or playing music on the piano (although practicing my lesson pieces was TOTALLY out of the question).
I dated a gym rat in college for about two years. There were lots of things wrong with that relationship, but at the heart of it was that we really didn’t have a whole lot in common. He lived at the gym. I….didn’t. He tried to pressure me and coerce me into going. He made me feel bad when I didn’t. It wasn’t a good time.
Over the last six years, I’ve totally changed my life (although I still love me a good rainy day curled up with a book). I’ve ran a few 5ks, been invited to run a Tough Mudder with a team from work, and trained for a half marathon. All of these are accomplishments in themselves (me? You think I’m athletic enough to compete with your Tough Mudder team?), so why do I still feel the nagging doubt that I am a fraud? Why do I still hear that voice in the back of my head saying
“You’re just going to quit, like you’ve done every other time.”
“You’re not a real athlete because you don’t compete on a team.”
“If they knew how adverse you used to be to physical activity, your clients would never take you seriously.”
“How can you call yourself a nutrition coach when you eat ice cream every night?”
People from my past may underestimate me. I may underestimate myself. But all I know is that I am addicted. I love learning about the way our bodies respond to the foods we eat. I am fascinated by exploring the relationship we have with food and eating. I love the feeling of a bad ass workout and thinking “I did that!” at the end.
So I guess the voices in my head need to just shut up. I’m not quitting. I am an athlete. I love being active…and I also love ice cream.