SHE NEVER GAVE UP!

Below is the experience of Tiff Dodge written for the 2012 IsaBody Challenge.  Her story has inspired millions, and that is no exaggeration. 

I first met Tiff her freshman year in college, 2004.  She was a feisty collegiate athlete with a drive to be the fittest female athlete ever.  She was one of those clients who would work so hard that she would throw up in the back corner and then come back and say " that's all you got?"  and those are fighting words to a trainer.

She also lived the Commit to Health routine  (last blog entry) with devout discipline. In fact she embraced it so much that she became my  little "Padawan Jedi warrior" sharing her devout beliefs with everyone. 

Her story below is a perfect example of what happens to all of us. Sometimes life grabs you by the horns, and those beliefs that were once important to you are not so important, or we do not have the ability to focus on what's important.  The message to Tiff's story is not that she got her life back from cleansing and exercise, or that she looks and feels great, the message to her story is that SHE NEVER GAVE UP!  

To live the "Committed Lifestyle" is an on going adventure, anyone who thinks that they can live a constant "healthy" lifestyle with no distractions are setting themselves up for some disappointing moments.  This is why it is so important to have a healthy balance routine.  The routine becomes the foundation to your healthy lifestyle.  If you do not have a routine you will join the millions of others who yo yo between health diets and programs.  

If you are one of those people who are struggling with health, maintaining weight, or need to develop a routine, DON'T GIVE UP, I can help.   Contact me to schedule a consultation

aaron@chickenorpig.com 

801.243.1791

PROMOTIONAL OFFER:

Sign up for the IsaChallenge with me and receive up to 5 days a week  free training sessions or training programs.  

Name: Tiff Dodge Member ID: #9348128
Start Date: 12/12/2011 End Date: 5/27/2012 Height: 5'3
Start Weight: 157 lbs. End Weight: 125 lbs. Total Weight Loss: 32 lbs.
Starting Fat Percent: 28% Ending Fat Percent: 13% Total % Loss: 15%
Starting Measurements:
Arms- 12.5"
Chest- 37"
Waist- 31.5"
Abdomen- 38"
Buttocks- 42"
Thighs- 26"
Ending Measurements:
11.5"
33.5"
26.5"
30"
35"
21"
Total Inches Loss:
1 inch
3.5 inches
5 inches
8 inches
7 inches
5 inches
Total: 29.5 inches
Disclaimer: The purpose of sharing this story is not to seek for sympathy, pity, or recognition. I share my
story because as the Dalai Lama once said, "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others." I share with
the hope that perhaps my story may fortify another who is searching for the strength to overcome their
tribulations. None are exempt from the trials and pains of mortality. It is a frequently believed
misconception that having trials makes us weak. On the contrary, it is our trials that make us strong.
The strength we gain from trials should be used to help others to bear their own. It should not be hidden
in an attempt to conceal the fact that we are now, or have already, experienced hardships. We often try
to convince ourselves that our trials are unique, that "no one else could possibly know what I am going
through," that "I am strong enough to do this on my own," and that accepting help somehow makes us
inadequate. Somewhere in our mind we are told that making our trials known to others somehow makes
us weaker or less "perfect" than everyone else. We want to believe that "this type of thing doesn't
happen to people like me." But the truth is that it takes more strength to say "I need help" than it does to
pretend like you don't. We are not strong when we try to disguise our need of assistance. In actuality we
inhibit each other from fulfilling our purpose in this life--to lift and help others. So it is that I share my
story; to let others know even the "strong" go through hell, and even the weak can make it out. I am not
the first to experience despair, and I won't be the last. I share my story in hope that someone who reads
it will know that they are not alone; that others have gone before them, and they survived. I share in the
hopes that my story might lift another--even if it is only high enough to get a glimpse of the light at the
end. I share to let others know, there are people out there waiting, and wanting to help.
I am a control freak. I grew up a hard-nosed, determined athlete that thought I could do anything I
wanted, no matter how hard it might be to achieve. I was known and recognized for my strength
physically and mentally. Although I was small (5'3), I was confident and knew that I was in control of my
own destiny. My "controlling spirit," along my crippling fear of being inadequate, helped me to prove I
was strong enough to play with the big kids. I have always looked at others' abilities and said "if they can
do it, then I should be able to do it." That mentality earned me four varsity athletic letters, an athletic
scholarship to a prestigious college, Bachelor's degrees in Mathematics and Secondary Education, and a
scholarship to Graduate School in Washington, DC.
I graduated with my Masters degree at the top of my class. I felt on top of the world--the future filled
with unlimited possibilities. By all definitions, I was a "happy, successful individual." Then, a few days
after graduation, I experienced a traumatic experience that sent me instantaneously spiraling into a
deep depression, facing relentless anxiety. For weeks I was incapacitated--unable to sleep, eat, or leave
my room. For days I sat expressionless on the edge of my bed, my arms wrapped around my body,
rocking back and forth much like a mother does trying to calm her ailing child, trying to convince myself
to not carry out the suicidal thoughts in my head. Alcohol and self-mutilation became my tools of
suppression. Eventually I succumbed to the idea that death would be less painful than what I was
experiencing. After an apathetic attempt at suicide, I was placed on multiple medications to relieve the
anxiety and depression. However, the anguish and feelings of worthlessness did not desist. Even with
the medications and self-stimulation, memories of the trauma I had experienced were triggered by
everything I saw, heard, or smelled. It was too much for me to bear. After another near attempt of
taking my life, I was diagnosed with PTSD. Even more meds were added to my daily regimen. I felt like a walking pharmacy. I now relied completely on synthetic chemicals to function day to day. Without
them, I couldn't control my thoughts or actions. With them, I was demoralized. No matter how you
rolled the dice, "strong" was no longer an appropriate adjective to describe who I had become.
I thought if I could get off the medications it would prove I was back in control; that I was strong again,
but each attempt to rid myself of the chemicals proved to be a failure, and brought repercussions that
caused more harm than good, often sending me deeper into the pit of desolation. Being on so many
medications fueled my feelings of despair and helplessness. The fact that I had no control over these
feelings made them multiply. It ate at my entire being, more or less paralyzing me. The one attribute
that had brought me so much happiness and success in life, my sense of control, had vanished entirely. I
had lost all control of my mind, my life, and consequently my body. The once strong and determined
athlete that resided within the walls of my now dilapidated frame was long to be found. I longed to
return to the days when I was healthy and active--back to the days when I believed I could do anything.
But now, getting out of bed was a task. Performing any sort of physical endeavor would be a miracle! I
just didn't have the strength, physically or mentally to get back to where I wanted to be. When I
eventually tried to use exercise as an outlet it proved to be counterproductive. My mental state had
impacted my physical state so immensely that I couldn't do even a minute fraction of what I used to do.
The feelings of inadequacy were too overwhelming, and caused me to turn to my other suppressors,
namely self mutilation, more frequently.
Everything began to change the day I reunited with my trainer, Aaron Ogden. I had purposely avoided
having any contact with him since I had moved back to Utah. The last thing I wanted was for him to see
me in the state of weakness that I was in. I was successful in averting him for five months, until as fate
would have it I experienced a physical injury that forced me to humble myself and inquire of his
expertise. What I thought would just be a few training sessions turned into much much more.
Somewhere along the way of rehabbing my injury, I was reminded of when Aaron first introduced me to
Isagenix and cleansing many years ago. I remembered my first cleansing experience. I had a lot of
success. I lost 17 pounds and 9% body fat. More important than what I lost during that initial cleanse, is
what I gained. I achieved mental and spiritual clarity on a level I had never known before. I then
realized, the first step to getting my life and body back was to cleanse.
I have always found the strength to overcome mental challenges by drawing on the physical challenges I
have experienced. I used to often tell myself, "If you can do that then you can do this." With that in
mind, I set out to do the exact cleanse I had done initially those many years ago. I figured if I could get
the same cleansing results as I did before, then somehow that would mean I was strong and in control
again, and could overcome all the mental health issues I was having. It was heartrending when at the
end of the nine days I hadn't even come close to my goal. It tore me apart, and reinstated my belief that
there was no hope for me. I was bound to remain in this state of obscurity, reliant upon medication and
stimulants eternally. In my mind, the person who was once described as "strong" was now entirely
extinct.
Then fate stepped in again. Aaron began advertising the Isabody Challenge on Facebook. For reasons
only God knows, I contemplated doing it, but I was scared to try to commit myself to the challenge. I thought about the mental angst my nine day disappointment caused. I couldn't imagine what six
months was going to do to me if I failed. On the contrary, I didn't want to think about what the next six
months could do to me if I didn't try. I still believed that cleansing was the first step to getting my life
and body back, but I realized a nine or 30 day cleanse wasn't going to solve my problems. I needed a
deep cleanse. A life altering cleanse. I knew the Isabody Challenge was the best avenue to do so. It was
the challenge I needed to reinstate my sense of control and determination. I decided to do it. Not for
the money, the cruise, or to get a six-pack. I did it to show I could be in control of my life--that I was
stronger than my mind.
I finished the Isabody Challenge on May 28th, exactly six months from the start date. I will be the first to
admit that I did anything but fail. I am now completely off medication and 100% sober. I started
training for a 12 hour adventure race towards the end of the challenge. Just a month after I finished the
challenge, my team won the race-- an amazing feat for someone who at one point couldn't leave their
room for weeks. My new medications come in the form of the solace I have found in the outdoors.
Hiking, cycling, mountain biking, and snowboarding are my new stimulants. The Isabody challenge gave
me the tools and structure I needed to gain control of my body, and to do the things I love. By taking
control of my body, I took back control of my mind and my life. When I look in the mirror at the body
I've created, I am reminded of the challenges I overcame the past six months. The image gives me the
courage to continue to transform my life.
Everyone recognizes the physical changes. They see the weight loss. They notice the defined muscles.
What they can't see is the real peace and clarity I possess within. To me, the physical achievements are
secondary to the internal. I have my life back! My mind is clear, and I am happy again! Someone once
asked me during an early morning training session, "When does your challenge end?" I responded,
"Never." They laughed, but it was not a joke. There are still hard days; days when I am tempted to look
to that bottle of pills or alcohol, or to contribute to the scars that remind me of where I have been. But
now, because of the 5 am workouts, the two-a-days, and the months of comfort food deprivation, and
that outlandish month of no carbs, I can again tell myself "I am strong! If I can do all THAT, I can
definitely do this!" I have reclaimed my determination and belief that I can do great things, and I AM
doing great things. Thanks to the unwavering support and guidance of Aaron, and the help of Isagenix, I
am once more in control of my destiny, and ready to change the world.