When I look at a heavy person today I wonder who they are on the inside. What are their hopes and dreams? Who do they want to be when they "grow up"? Are they happy or do they wish they could fade into the background like I used to? And then I wonder, if they knew my story, would they be inspired to try to lose weight one more time? Or am I simply projecting all of my issues on to that anonymous person? Maybe they like carrying around extra weight. And who am I to judge if they do?
I used to think skinny people didn't have problems. Maybe it was because I so desperately wanted to be thin. I thought if only I could lose the weight, all of my problems would fade. I thought I deserved to suffer, that I wasn't worthy of love because I was so undisciplined. And in my deepest moments of pain I grabbed the mixer and whipped a batch of chocolate "bliss" cookies and slowly numbed the pain.
When I think about what my life used to look and feel like, I experience sadness tinged with relief. It's true, I'm not a prisoner in my own body any longer, but more importantly, I'm not bound by cords of negative thinking. Somehow I found the escape route. And the joy I feel now motivates me to share my story because I want others to experience that too.
I began this journey three and a half years ago armed with very few resources and little hope that I could accomplish my goal...to lose 100 pounds. I suffered through agonizing withdrawals from my favorite foods and torturous walks up *gasp* hills(plural!). I cried a lot. I was angry at myself quite frequently. But I refused to give up because I knew to surrender to my desire for food would never, ever make me truly happy.
My first winter, when it was too cold to walk outside I taped workout routines on television(Gilad and Kathe). I picked up a kickboxing video by Kathy Smith and effectively pulled my ribs out of joint punching and kicking all over my living room. I strained my Achilles tendon. My knees ached. And last but not least, I tore the cartilage in my hip. But I didn't lose my resolve to stay healthy. If I could never work out another day in my life(because I became a quadruple amputee) yes, I would be sad, but I would still do everything in my power to eat right and move(even if I had to have my husband push me around in a wheelbarrow.
Yesterday I had the distinct pleasure to meet Kathy Smith in person. I was able to share a little bit of my story and get my picture taken with her. It was such an honor to meet her, not because she's a celebrity, but because I know she shares my passion for physical and mental fitness. I have always wondered if I had the opportunity to do a live aerobics class, would I be able to keep up. I don't have to wonder any more. This morning I had the privilege to work out with Kathy Smith live and I did more than keep up, I had fun.
I love my life. I love the healthy body I have worked so hard for. I know I am blessed because there are many people in this world who do everything right and are still unhealthy, through no fault of their own. I will never take it for granted. I also know I am still Margaret and I still struggle with food addiction. But it doesn't define me. I am fighting it with every sinew in my body. I am studying and learning everything I can to take care of my one and only body. I no longer fret and worry over "having to work out every day for the rest of my life." I just go out and enjoy it.
I'm not worried about chairs breaking when I sit down any more. And for that I am deeply thankful. Getting from there to here has been a long and winding journey, but I wouldn't change a single second of it. Because every (painful) step, every unsatisfied craving, and every tear I wiped on my sleeve brought me to where I am today. The place where I am doing planks in my living room while my youngest son says, "Mommy, you look like a bridge." Yes, Son. I do. And you know what? I feel as strong as a bridge too.
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