I’ve been labeled in plenty of ways throughout my life (especially if you’ve seen the comments online), but “tiny” has never made the list. I’m not small by any means, and according to my BMI, I’m carrying a bit more weight than I ideally should. My body shape is definitely pear-like, my arms jiggle when I sprinkle salt on my food (and yes, I do it with gusto), and when I sit, I have rolls that resemble a breadbasket, along with a “flap” that I have to tuck into my jeans.
This would be easier to understand if I were a couch potato with a nightly ice cream binge. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m actually a group fitness instructor at two gyms. On the days when I’m not teaching, I make sure to work out for at least 30 minutes at home, as I start to feel sluggish if I go a day or two without sweating.
I’ve even adapted my “day job” as a writer, which typically means sitting at a desk, to include movement; thanks to the Microsoft Word app, I can write articles on my phone while walking around my house. This helps me clock in an extra 5,000 steps daily. On average, I manage to hit between 15,000 and 20,000 steps each day, which is like walking 7 to 10 miles. My blood pressure is impressively low, my resting heart rate is that of an athlete, and although I might be exaggerating a little, I often impress people with my agility. I strive to consume quality food about 80% of the time to fuel my active lifestyle.
Physically and metabolically speaking, I’m in excellent shape. Yet, my thighs still resemble cottage cheese in a casing. The extra weight around my midsection is persistent, and honestly, I’ve accepted it.
There was a time in my life when I was far from healthy. I once weighed nearly 300 pounds after the birth of my third child and was not nearly as active; exercise mostly consisted of chasing after my kids. Feeling awful both physically and emotionally, I found the idea of making a change daunting—like facing an insurmountable mountain.
It took a moment of reality to wake me up—a video my son unintentionally recorded of me rummaging through the fridge, my belly hanging out of a too-small tank top. That was my wake-up call. Over the next two years, I lost over 100 pounds and discovered a newfound love for physical activity I never knew I had.
Now, seven years later, I continue to work out regularly and focus on healthier eating habits. Yet, despite my significant weight loss, I wouldn’t describe myself as “thin.” My body clings to those extra pounds as if they’re a part of me. For instance, during my fourth pregnancy, I was at the peak of my fitness career—teaching eight hours a week during my first trimester and six hours right into my ninth month—and still gained 50 pounds. Not 15, but fifty! My doctor reassured me that both my baby and I were healthy, explaining that some individuals naturally hold onto more weight.
I am one of those individuals. I’ve embraced my body and its unique shape, wobbly bits and all. Of course, there are days when I feel bloated and uncomfortable, and nothing fits just right. But overall, I feel good in my clothes (and my husband seems to agree, as he often compliments me with a playful “nice pants” and a wink).
It’s time to rethink the automatic assumption that fitness equates to being thin. You can be fit without being svelte, and I’m living proof of that. I take pride in my body for its capabilities. I’m healthy and strong, even if I don’t have those sculpted abs or perfectly toned arms. They might just be hidden under a little extra fluff.
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Summary
In this article, Laura Fields shares her personal journey of embracing her body despite not fitting the conventional mold of “thin.” After a significant weight loss, she continues to prioritize fitness and healthy eating while accepting her unique shape. Fields emphasizes that being fit does not necessarily mean being slender, encouraging readers to celebrate their bodies for their strengths.