I, a once obese, sedentary and hopeless person, participated in the New York City Triathlon, a week ago this past Sunday. It wound up being the most humid, hot day this year, and my race became an uncomfortable, intense struggle of mind over matter. I am now a “new me.” A testament to my very own revolution, I lifted my head up high and dragged my sorry, tired butt lovingly through the course. It’s so fulfilling to face adversity and trust that I’ll do my best to finish what I start. Since I've stopped judging my performance, just showing up makes me a winner everyday!
I have apologized to myself for all the years that I hated who I was. However, having been there has given me the special clarity and empathy that’s made me a trailblazer to those who struggle with similar issues. The secret to my success is that I sustain an exercise routine, and do not falter. While I never force a higher level of intensity than I am ready for; I do the best I can on that given day. If the best I can do is show up, then so be it. With no judgment or pressure, I keep it positive and applaud what I do. Now, I never fall short because it’s “all-good”.
I am 52 years old and began exercising because a lifetime of perpetual dieting had wrecked me. As a teenager, I decided that my normal sized body was fat. I spent decades trying to fix my body and hence fix me. I chose dieting as a means to deliver me to what I thought was the promise land, but it turned out to be a mixed bag of emotions. I went from empowerment to feeling inept and deprived. I disconnected my body from my brain and forced myself to follow trendy prewritten, super strict diets. Many times I got to where I felt fabulous which was an inappropriately low weight, then gradually became heavier than when I started. This was the bane of my existence and nothing else mattered.
I lost the ability to just nourish my body; food and I became enemies at war. I felt victimized by the sustenance necessary to stay alive and was neurotic about everything that crossed my lips. Still, I became obese, depressed, and even binge ate in my sleep. It was too outrageous to comprehend. The pain was so intense for me that I checked out mentally. I did my best to function in a walking coma. I lived my life in search of the next new diet that would have a different outcome. There was no such diet for me.
Did you know that weight loss diets have an 85% failure rate? So if only 15% of dieters succeed, then what are the rest of us doing? If the numbers prove that you do not maintain a weight loss after following a modified diet plan, then there should never be a second diet for anyone. If you regain the weight, you are NOT in the 15%. After twenty-five years of being in the 85%, I finally had the courage to venture down a different path. I threw my scale into the garbage, stocked my house with my favorite foods and began to exercise. It was not pleasant or easy, but in my teeny tiny baby steps I found the courage to soldier on.
I tried to run, but it was too hard. I road a bike, and it hurt my bottom. I spent a fortune to join gyms, and rarely, if ever, went. Since after dieting I realized that exercise was the only option, I knew I had to figure something out. I concocted my own recipe for getting fit and started at the beginning, the Pre-K version of fitness. I put on exercise garb and went for a run every other day. It was simple; schedule it, wear the clothes, and run my run. I ran so slowly, senior citizens with walkers passed me by. I admit it felt lame, but the job was so reasonable and doable, I kept showing up.
It's hard to believe that such a simple recipe would turn my world around completely, but it did. I kept running my run, and within months, I was a budding athlete. The definition of athlete is a person who is competent or skilled in sports and other forms of physical exercise. Not just the fastest, strongest, most seasoned people get to call themselves such. Since we come in different shapes, sizes and intensities, it only makes sense that each of us can be proficient in different ways. So, I became an athlete, Hallelujah!
From the moment I made my fitness commitment, I recognized that balance was so much easier to find with exercise. It was clear and concise and all I had to do was get there, like it or not. It was a recipe that wasn't a set up for failure. I became the proud owner of a loving little fitness habit. I finally began to care about the body I hated for so long. I treated it like a shiny new car. Not only did it forgive me; it became strong, slim, extra healthy and beautiful.
When my sports drink slipped out of my hands on the bike course of the triathlon, I didn’t think anything of it. But with a heat index of 110, I became somewhat dehydrated, and later my leg muscles started to cramp and spasm. It got so bad I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. I opted to keep it simple, so I got out of the chatter in my head, slowed my pace dramatically, and just ran my run. Not only did I finish, it was glorious. I'm so proud of who I am that I wish everyone would feel the same adoration about themselves.
Nobody needs to do a triathlon to be an athlete, but everybody needs a steady exercise routine to maintain a good quality of life. By keeping my body in good physical shape, I am able to weather the storms the universe throws my way. I am proof that feeling capable makes amazing things happen. I never diet, get on a scale, or think twice when I look at a menu. My body speaks to me and without a second thought I am able to listen. No diets, self-judgment or disrespect, just love and appreciation. Fitness saved me!
I wish for everyone to gain the ability to cross all of our own finish lines with pride, no matter what the race looks like. I feel so blessed with my perfectly imperfect and precious body. I am dedicated to living my life inspiring others. We all need to feel the love for exactly who we are so we all can be happy in our own skin, living our lives healthy, whole and complete.
