I’m sure I’m not the only person to say this, and I’m sure some of you rolled your eyes as you read that. Honestly, I felt a little bit of ick writing it, but let me explain, because now it’s so much more than that.
I’m going to start near the beginning, me as a chunky child and upon reflection body dysmorphic teenager. My dad’s side of the family have the great genes of bad teeth, big feet, big tits, and great cooks. Whilst my mums are taller, slimmer, pretty good gnashers and possibly the worst bunch of cooks I’ve ever met in my life.
My uncle once used mozzarella cheese to make a cheesecake. But that’s a story for another day.
As the child that was surrounded by good food, because my dad cooked most meals, which were delicious, or my gran followed me around with chocolate biscuits and the Scottish delight: Tunnocks Teacakes. It will come as a limited surprise that I was a pretty chunky child. I had greasy, spotty skin, slouched all the time (cause it was cool in the 90s to pretend everything was uncool), and had the worst mood swings of anyone I’ve ever met.
I struggled with just feeling incredibly awkward in my own skin, probably because the influence in magazines back then was skinny women, and I didn’t see how I’d ever be one of those. I wasn’t active, mostly because I was embarrassed. I’d take my gym kit to school and if I got to P.E. and felt uncomfortable with the teacher, or what we had for the day, I’d pretend I left it at home.
I also felt really awkward talking to kids my age. Sure I had friends, but I didn’t feel like I really fit in. I’d get involved with drama because it was kind of the done thing in the Gorman family of amateur dramatists - but if you look at any picture of me on stage, I never smiled. I’d be the opening person on stage and I wouldn’t smile.
Suddenly, around 16 years old, I lost a lot of weight. Puppy fat of course. And started to get more attention, that honestly I didn’t know what to do with. I liked hiding at the back.
I started getting into exercise, because I still thought I was big, bigger than everyone else. I started running with my boyfriend that played rugby - it was miserable, I couldn’t breathe and it hurt my knees. I went hiking with the Duke of Edinburgh, which was fun to spend time with my group of fellow nerds. I stopped having to take P.E. classes. I worked in a coffee shop at the weekend making coffees and sandwiches and coming into my own with the help of a great mentor, Ger.
When I left school, I started working in restaurants, bartending at events, working three jobs at a time, sometimes on the same day. I started going to the gym with friends. I realised I liked the energy and endorphins from spin classes, Les Mills (body attack, body pump) and Zumba. On a typical Monday/Tuesday it wouldn’t be unusual for me to do four fitness classes in one day. Or on a split shift to work 6am-noon, do a spin class, nap, work 5.30pm-midnight, then drink heavily.
I lost more weight (and still thought I looked big), I got to the weight I thought I wanted to be. I was smaller, like the other girls, but I wasn’t happy or fulfilled.
I went traveling and learnt that maybe I wasn’t the angry kid, or the overweight teen, I always thought I was, maybe I was just in the wrong place.
I worked away from home for six months, staying in staff accommodation. Let me explain the scene. It looked like a concentration camp from the outside, especially in wet, grey Scotland in winter. Inside, there was a toilet/shower cubicle that was so cold I could keep my breakfast milk in there with no fear of it going lumpy. Then the bedroom had a single bed and floor space just smaller than a single bed. A wardrobe and a desk.
In that tiny floor space, I followed Shaun T’s Insanity Programme every single night. Followed by a 5k run or cycle around the local area. Eat a terrible dinner in the sad staff canteen and drink cider until it was time to go to bed.
I’d just broken up with a boyfriend of 6 or 7 years and very much self soothing with alcohol. It was safe to say my family were a little worried. Especially with alcohol being a problem in the family. And honestly, so was I. I just didn’t really know how to stop. I was lost.
Until a friend messaged me and said “Amy, you love doing dumb exercise, I think you should come and try CrossFit with me, I’ve just started and it’s great!” She was currently in her basic training for the Police, living a similar sad life in staff accommodation.
So I tried it and was sold after my first class.
Where I was going to do my classic “I forgot my P.E. kit” and watch from the sidelines.
I remember my first classes of having no idea what was going on at any point in time. There always being some kind of rock/metal music playing. There were two tiny toilets for everyone. The space was small and basic. But the people were so nice and encouraging.
From then, CrossFit changed my life.
I realised that by lifting I cared way less about the size I was. I wanted to be able to do a pull up (with took about 6 years), or a double under (which took 4), or do this weird snatch thing.
I remember one day going in for squats and I’d had a shit day at work and was in my head and wanted to cry. I didn’t want to do the session. And the male coach telling me nobody cared about my day and it wasn’t going to ruin my session so to get on with it and lift the challenges away. Or something to that effect. So I did. Whilst tears streamed down my cheeks. And I felt better after.
I moved to New York to work for a year and the first thing I did was join a CrossFit gym to meet people.
I was hit my a car and fractured my knee whilst I was there, and the motivation I had to get back to full health was that I wanted to lift weights again. That I had more to do and I wanted to see what I was capable of.
I moved to London and I joined a weightlifting club to try out a different variation and to meet people.
I was in a really shitty relationship, and he hated that I lifted and was more muscular than him (many red flags even in that sentence). But having friends at CrossFit and a safe place to go was what gave me the confidence to leave him.
I’m still friends with women (and some men) from CrossFit gyms I’ve been to around the world. I still speak to many of them each week.
Later when I started coaching, I met my now partner, Kieran. Someone that encourages me to be strong, and powerful, and speak up and not be quiet in the corner because I have things to say. I like that we lift together, that we are growing a business together, that we challenged each other into a 90-day marathon, that we can have this big piece of our life shared.
I like that I can have my hair pulled back, leggings and sports bra on and shift a load of weight and challenge my body to do cool shit that my 16 year old self would never have thought possible.
I can still wear nice dresses and shock everyone when I look great in a dress, instead of a scruff in the gym.
I like that I rest and eat to make myself feel good, strong and confident.
Instead of over-training, restricting and feeling hangry or injured all the time.
I have learnt to listen to what I actually want and need and can see the signs when I’m trying to push myself negatively (most of the time). Sure, I don’t always listen to it, but I’ve learnt and continue to learn.
If any of this story resonates with you.
You’re in the right place.
Welcome.
I’m Amy, we’re together in the recovering chunky kid, low body confidence, cardio club.
And we’re building the community for women that want to be heard and seen for all they’re worth - their thoughts, feelings, strengths and values.
I can’t wait to talk more <3
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