I’m still sweating from my 1.7 miles on the treadmill, but I like it.
If you had told me I’d feel this good after only three weeks of exercising, I’d have called you insane.
But somehow, with each painful step, I’m building not only endurance, but self-confidence.
Tonight, I’ll go back to the gym for Zumba. That, in itself, is a huge step.
Back when I lost 90 pounds several years ago, I went to this same gym, though then it was in a different location.
A few years and several pounds after that, I started back, and then promptly quit.
A few years and even more pounds after that, my husband and I started the gym’s eight-week Body Challenge, in which a group of people diet and exercise for a chance at prizes.
I think we lasted about two weeks.
We were Body Challenge Dropouts.
Oh, the shame.
From that point forward, we’ve been in the Witness Protection Program.
To make it worse, I now run into Gary, the owner of the gym, many mornings when I’m dropping off my son at daycare.
We’ve made eye contact a few times, and he always has that hey-don’t-I-know-you look on his face.
I mean, I look sort of the same, yet shockingly different if he ever figures out who I am.
Kinda like I’m me, but in a fat suit.
Biting the bullet and walking back in that gym after my sign-up-and-quit record actually took a lot of courage that even weeks ago, I wouldn’t have had.
So, here’s to my courage and to your courage. I’m hearing lots of great reports every day as many of you make great strides yourselves.
Now someone get me out of this fat suit …
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