I would be remise if I didn’t address something that I’ve
been thinking about the past couple days. You see, yesterday June 12 was the
one year anniversary of signing up for personal training. It seems I’m having a
lot of anniversaries of sorts lately. But alas, another one in the books. I made it!
When I signed up for personal training I was terrified. I was not only
scared of what was to come for me, but of the reality of staying committed to
something for an entire year. I don’t exactly have the best track record when
it comes to consistency. And somehow, I have found myself one year out and low
and behold I am still going. That my friends would almost be considered a
miracle, right?
Yesterday, aside from being very busy at work, I did a lot
of thinking. Part of the wonderful beauty of life is that you cannot always
predict how things will turn out or where you will be at any given point in
time. When I signed my life away I had no idea what was to come. Nerves filled
every part of me. After going home that night I had a pseudo panic attack and
called my mom scared to death about my decision. A couple months in I admit I
was high on the fumes of crazy pills the gym pumped thru me. I was addicted and
working hard and started to see amazing results. This got me crazy excited
about where I could be in a year’s time.
At some point, as expected, I lost some steam as my life started to
normalize. As I found myself, or re-found
myself for the millionth time, I have had to fight to find the place that the
gym would play in my life.
But one thing is certain, one year later, I am proud of
myself. I may no longer be 140 pounds. I
may in fact be 155 pounds. But guess what, I am one STRONG HEALTHY active 155
pound woman. You can say all you want
about perhaps 155 pounds is too much weight for a 5 foot 2 or 5 foot 3 inch
woman and maybe it’s not ideal, but ultimately it’s manageable and realistic
for ME.
Do you know how long it’s taken me to accept some harsh cold
truths? Despite what anyone else tells
me and despite knowing that sure if I worked as hard or gave as much effort as
someone else says I might be able to be 140 pounds, but the harsh cold truth
is, I just don’t want to. It’s not THAT
important to me. For goodness sakes
world, I was not genetically born of 120 pound frame. I never topped the scales
at like 170 pounds. Nope, this body can easily without warning find itself at
220 pounds. Harsh reality. Living a life, being happy, being incredibly active
and strong, I find myself quite honestly maintaining 155 pounds with ease for
the past 6 months. Why I am constantly fighting
this and trying to convince my brain that it’s not good enough?
When we are 220 pounds, do you know how much I would have
given in that moment to be 155 pounds and be able to have maintained it for
well over a year? In October, 4 months
approximately, I will have a 2 year anniversary of maintenance; I have NEVER
had a 2 year anniversary, EVER. Of
anything related to weight loss. That is a big deal for me. It may not be 140
pounds, but am I really going to spend my life fighting push and nail over 15
pounds? Seems so irrelevant when I am
constantly active and living life.
If I ate less food, I am sure I’d lose weight. I am also
sure if I ate less food I would not have the energy to push thru and work out
the way I still consistently do. It’s a catch 22. When I don’t eat, I can’t run
half marathons. Plain and simple. And I love running with my husband. I love
the epic journey we have traveled down and that is the single best part of the
past almost 2 years.
Yes, 8 months ago I might have been technically a little
smaller or in better physical shape, but mentally I was fried. Mentally I was
struggling. Today, this period of my
life, the past couple months have hands down been the happiest of my entire
life. Weighing 155 pounds and all. Weight is a stupid tool of measurement. Honestly,
at the end of the day, do you know how strong I feel? The miracle of all of this is that I stand
here today loving myself and my life…. I have grown into a strong confident
woman who runs half marathons.
The measure of my success is in the relationships the
surround me. The love I have in my life. The wall in the hall that showcases my
medals, my accomplishments for the year. The reality that this weekend I will
be running my 11th half marathon of 2014. That one year after
signing up for personal training I am still going. I haven’t quit. That holy
shit, I have a lot of muscle going on and that is something that simply did not
exist a year ago.
We are an ever constant evolving version of ourselves. We
have the right to grow and change and change our minds. The beauty of life is
that we get to change direction mid-course and set sail to a new horizon. Where I ended up today, one year later, may
not be where I originally intended to go, but so help me God, it feels so much
better than anything I could have predicted.
When I sat at the desk and signed my life away for a year of
personal training the naysayer in me would have laughed at the thought of accomplishing
what I have this past year. I don’t
think I would have believed my marriage would be the healthiest it has EVER
been. That not only would I have ran a total of 12 half marathons in that years’
time (2 in 2013, and the 10 of 2014). And not only that, but Chris would have
ran 10 of them to. I would have laughed you out of the building, seriously. That this journey, in the 12 months since
signing that contract would take me to Vegas, Seattle, Arizona, San Francisco,
San Diego. That I would walk away with so many real life relationships with
people that have grown on me. That I could finally be the girl that I always
wanted to be.
For all of its good and bad, ups and downs, the gym and the
people within its walls have changed me. I may not always agree with their direction
for me, but in the end they have given me the ability to believe in myself
enough to start living my life, for me. And for that, I am thankful beyond
belief.
If I never change an ounce in weight from where I am today,
if I could live in this bubble the rest of my life, 155 pounds, running half
marathons, lifting heavy weights, traveling with Chris, spending 95% of my life
happy and smiling, then I would be the luckiest girl for the duration of my time
on earth.
So on the 1 year anniversary of committing to a year of me;
I think I have far exceeded my expectations.
I ultimately just wanted to prove that I could stick something out for a
whole year and truly learn how to make this my lifestyle. I am never going to be stick thin. I was just not born into that genetic
pool. But I am every bit as lovely and
special and worthy as the woman who lives happily at 120 pounds. I have found
my reasons for living and not a single one of them involve anything having to
do with my weight on a scale.
I shall once again get to prove to myself all that I am
capable of this weekend as I run the Vancouver USA half marathon and walk away
with a true shiny gold medal around my neck. This is living in its best form.
Happiness. Being fulfilled in life. Feeling lucky simply to be strong enough to
pursue my dreams. Passion. Best year ever.
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