How true this is. I knew I was heavy. I knew the weight was holding me back. I knew I was slowly killing myself. I knew I lacked self-confidence. I knew it all. And yet, I didn't care. I didn't value me. And, when I finally did value me, some things had to take a backseat. This had to be my priority.
I can remember the first time I had a workout with Danny. Seems so long ago - not just 11 months.
I couldn't walk a minute on the treadmill without huffing and puffing. I couldn't do anything substantial. Our first couple workouts were between the treadmill on a slow speed and the recumbent bicycle. Even still, I was so sore. I slept on ice packs for days. He wouldn't let me quit. And, when he wouldn't let me quit, I saw that I didn't have to quit. I could fight through the pain, the struggles, the depression, the lack of motivation. All of it. And then, I saw results. I remember the first time I could weigh myself at the gym. Doesn't seem like much - but to me, it was the world. I cried (there have been many tears at the gym, more than Danny would like, I'm sure), but it was such a liberating feeling to know that I had passed a major milestone.
I remember doing sprints and face planting on the treadmill. I also remember the subsequent surgery that followed it, and the healing process thereafter. I promise to try to not do that again - not fun.
I remember when I lost my first 100 pounds. My mom presented me with a banner signed by many church people and the gym folks. I still have that banner and I pull it out to read the encouraging words by so many people. Sometimes, it is the motivation that gets me to the next turning point.
I remember Jockey's Ridge...the last time I was there, I was 12, maybe 13. It wasn't enjoyable then. It was enjoyable now. It was a hard workout - especially with my "gift" of two gallons of water from Danny, but it was a challenge - and one I enjoyed doing. I remember making it to the top and crying because I had done something that I believed I couldn't do.
I remember my first 5K - the Susan G. Komen breast cancer race. My only goal was to finish it. I didn't care how long it took me, but I was going to finish it. Despite discharge from the hospital just a few days before the race, I still went. And, I finished. I will cherish that memory like no other. I remember that sense of satisfaction - finishing the race. I also remember how sore I was the remainder of the day and the next.
I remember the first time I was able to climb Mt. Trashmore - and take my nephew to play without fear that he'd run off and I wouldn't be able to catch him. I remember going to the Wright Brother's Memorial and jogging around it - despite what people said or thought. I did it for me.
I remember "running in the New Year" as a symbol of everything I had been through this year. My sister did it with me and we were literally the only ones in the whole gym (I know that surprises you, right?).
I remember the night I could wear clothes from the regular stores for the first time. I kinda went a little crazy buying stuff, but I could wear real clothes from a real store and not just "what they had in my size." I had options.
I remember the surprise "fake" birthday party my friends and family threw for me - just before Body Challenge started. I couldn't have imagined a better "fake" birthday party!
I remember the first Mt. Trashmore crazy workout for Body Challenge. I didn't know what to expect. They didn't disappoint, either!
This past weekend was the first 5K of 2014 for me. Shaving 17 minutes off my time from the Komen caused great joy and astonishment. I couldn't have done it without my bestie, Cynthia, there to cheer me on and encourage me - not let me quit, even when I was ready.
All in all, 29 was a great year. I have much to look forward to this year as I celebrate being 30. After all, 30 is the new 20, and I plan to make it as memorable as 29!
Special thank you to all my friends and family who have encouraged me over the past year - never let me give up, even when the going got tough. Because of your encouragement and motivation, I now have a new lease on life.
