A couple of months ago I posted on my fatty forums about needing help with going to the gym with my schedule. I got a resounding, “If it’s important enough to you, you’ll find a way.” That couldn’t be more true.
A part of me was afraid of going back to the gym. Afraid of seeing just how far I’d fallen. Afraid of being the fat girl in the gym again. That’s a tough pill to swallow. That’s a tough feeling to face. How do I wrap my head around the last 18 months? I absolutely viewed myself as an athlete in 2013. I absolutely do not now, despite training for a half marathon, I struggle seeing the athlete again.
Last week I was laying in bed scrolling through Instagram looking for inspiration. I found myself thinking, “Why aren’t I getting the results I want?” “Look at her…she’s a beast. I’m so jealy.” “Well, I’d be at the gym too if I weren’t so tired, sleepy, exhausted, busy, overworked, so far away, etc etc.”
I’ve spent the last year searching for my inspiration, instead of being my inspiration.
There. I said it. It’s out there. Time to face everything and rise. Time to take charge again. Time to stop being the victim and enjoying the pity party I’ve had for my former athletic self and time to be her again. I’m done with it. In 12 days I will be a half marathon finisher. Something I NEVER thought possible. I am scared out of my mind for race day. I am more fearful mentally than physically. I’ve trained, and while it’s not a piece of cake on my body, it’s harder on my mind.
The older I get the more I want to be. The better I want to be. We only get about 85 years on this planet. I want to make the absolute best of them. Fear is temporary; regret is permanent.
I rejoined LA Fitness last week. The guy asked me, “Is it a lifestyle change this time?” This haunted me after I left. Was everything I’d done previously not a lifestyle change? Lifestyle changes are a permanent thing. Not a “quit when shit gets tough thing”. I quit when shit got tough. I didn’t fall back on the healthy habits I developed. I didn’t use the support and resources I had. I didn’t make the choices that would set me up to succeed. I chose failure.
I don’t regret it. I’ve learned from it. I’m better for it.
I told him yes, it is a lifestyle change.
I’ve stripped away the excuses.
And this morning, as I got dressed and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I thought, “Hmm…not bad.”
Ass for days.
A welcomed feeling.