So I’ve been reading on blogs and Twitter about people getting cold feet about Fitbloggin – people thinking about not going, or deciding not to go, or feeling uber nervous about going.
I can relate.
In spite of my INTENSE level of excitement, there’s a little-to-medium-sized part of me that is all freaking out inside. And not just because I’m performing on Friday night (to either a big room full of people, or a big room with like THREE people. Which is worse??).
It’s hard to really put into words but I saw that Roni’s recent blog post (Roni is the founder/organizer/QUEEN of Fitbloggin’!) was called Self-Sabotage. This word resonated with me so deeply without even reading the post.
I think there’s a teeny tiny bit of that going on. I was going gangbusters with the #30daychip a while back, diligently exercising Every! Single! Day!
But then things took a little bit of a turn, and that diligence just turned to something else. Defiance? Laziness? Fear? I think maybe a bit of all those things. Someone Tweeted me this morning “I see you’re still awesome!” and I was like, um, I’m feeling sort of Awesome-Minus right now. Not at my very best.
I think we all fear Showing Up at Fitbloggin’, when we’ve been sort of invisible to each other for all this time. Expectations are out there. People have a certain idea of who I am or might be. What if I’m a disappointment? What if, in spite of the Free Hugs campaign, people feel I am ignoring them? What if I don’t have enough TIME to talk and share and hang out with everyone I have wanted to for so long? What if… AGH!
This is just the shadow speaking up, the little Gollum hiding underneath all the excitement and happiness. The voice needs to come out.
But screw the cold feet. I’m gonna find myself some socks.
I did it! I ran in and finished the 100th Bay to Breakers today! As you know, I had a lot of conflict over whether I should even do this race or not. But after figuring out schedules, I realized it was possible to enjoy 24 hours at the spa and still do the race. Which is exactly what I did. Verrrrrrrrrry relaxing.
soakin in the hot waters with Junior
I got home last night around 9pm and got my race pile together. While I was doing that, I realized to my dismay that I had left my sturdy ankle brace up at the spa hotel. ARGHHH. But then I remembered the nifty KTT tape I’d gotten at the Las Vegas marathon, and I whipped it out along with the instructional YouTube video on How to Tape An Ankle, and I figured it would have to do.
race pile
I got up at 5:30 and my helpful spouse helped me tape up the ankle. Then I put on some compression socks, had my whole wheat English muffin with peanut butter (breakfast of champions) and headed out to the BART station. First thing I saw was this elderly gentleman with his race bib and a big cane. Which put a lump in my throat!
The train was full of people with great costumes and a lively happy atmosphere. I did not wear a costume of any sort – not even my Totoro hat – because I thought it would be raining and I didn’t want to deal with a soggy costume. So I was just wearing my regular running stuff which felt pretty mundane.
We all piled out at the Embarcadero and just followed the massive hordes of people going toward the corrals and the start. It was so so so so much fun seeing everyone’s costume. There were more tutus than you could shake a stick at (@Mizfitonline, you would’ve LOVED THIS EVENT). And a bunch of crazier things. I think my favorite was the Barrel of Monkeys. ADORABLE.
barrel of monkeys!
For some reason, it’s tradition to start the Bay to Breakers by tossing thousands of tortillas in the air. I have no idea why, but the tortillas were definitely flying. Also big beach balls. Yeah, it was a party! It was fun inching up to the starting line with all the revelry. People were in very good moods.
Finally we got to the start and it was different from any other race I’d been in because at least half the people there did not pick up speed at ALL after crossing the line – they just kept ambling on in relaxed fashion. But I think I’m conditioned to pick it up after my foot crosses that line so I did start jogging right away. It felt really good! I was just having a great time looking at everyone. I passed a bunch of blue Smurfs and some guys in bunny costumes passing out carrots. Huh? Cute, though.
I did see quite a few naked people. How come the people who run naked have bodies that probably look a LOT BETTER in clothes?? LOL.
There has been a lot of talk in B2B lore about the dreaded HAYES STREET HILL and when we turned onto Hayes I was like, OH NO! but truly it was not so bad. It isn’t as steep as the hill around the corner from my house. I decided I’d walk up it just to save some energy but I walked FAST and passed a bunch of people. It did seem like so many people were just… strolling. Which was fun. So the left half of the street was running and the right half was just out for a slow amble through San Francisco.
Lots of people out on their steps and patios, partying it up and watching everyone. Many of them were also dressed up and that was fun too. Although I just read about some guy falling off his roof with “life-threatening-injuries.” Ugh. I actually have no sympathy for drunk people who get hurt doing stupid things. Sorry.
Miles 2 and 3 went by pretty quickly. I was so jazzed to get to the top of the hill and then sort of fly down the other side. I was feeling very good around mile 3.
Then when we started getting near the Golden Gate Park panhandle – mile 4ish – my left knee started talking to me. Then it started crying and I was like, WHAT? is this? It was unlike any other knee pain I’d ever had before – the back (posterior) part of my knee, right in the center. It sort of came and went over the next couple miles, and sometimes it felt worse to walk, sometimes it felt worse to run. I spent the second half of the race just trying to figure out a gait that was the most comfortable.
In spite of the pain, I loved running through Golden Gate Park. I lived on the outskirts of the park for the first four years I lived in San Francisco, and I just adored that park. Especially the buffalo, which were right in my neighborhood. I got very emotional when we passed the buffalo.
First glimpse of ocean!
Man, do I love Golden Gate park. I was happy to pass the mile 6 and 7 markers, and then at some point I saw the ocean I knew that was it – the breakers in Bay to Breakers! Woo hoooo!!! I went through the finish line and then I really started feeling the daggers in my knee. I limped pretty much the rest of the way. We had to go another MILE to pick up our medals and food. I have to say, the post-race snacks were awesome: chocolate milk (post-race nutrition of champions!), hummus and crackers, and Laughing Cow cheese. Which rocked.
I had bought a ticket for a bus to go back to the starting line, and I was hobbling pretty much at that point. Another 3/4 mile to the bus pickup! OWWW!
Got my medal. (yay!) Got on the bus (double yay!). Then I started feeling all sorts of post-race misery and general decomposition – upset stomach, chills and shakes, KNEE PAIN and overall fatigue. I dragged myself to the BART station and made my way home where I promptly took a very hot shower and passed out for a couple hours.
In spite of the orthopedic mess, I am really glad I did it. It was super duper fun and just festive and great. I didn’t see people being rowdy or drunk, just having a great time. I’d say about HALF the people were walking and just having a good old time. It was fun to be in a race like that – unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.
I want to do it again. And next year I’m definitely running in a costume! I saw lots of people wearing their pajamas which seemed very comfortable and easy. Next year: race in sushi pajamas! Yay!
Now… I reallllllllllllly hope my knee is better by Friday for the Fitbloggin‘ 5k….
It’s hard to believe that after all this anticipation, I’ll be getting on a plane to go to Fitbloggin this Thursday! Squeeeeee!!!!! Last year at this time, I think I barely knew what Fitbloggin was. But what a difference a year makes. I’m so beyond excited.
In the past couple of years, I’ve had the chance to have a few face-to-face meetings with bloggers I’ve come to know and love and admire. One of the first blogger I met (she was one of my very first online friends to reach out to me) in person was Shannon. I cannot describe the affection and love I have for this woman. She was my first fit-blogging friend and will always have a special place in my heart. I’ve also loved spending time with @Pubsgal, Mary, Tracey, Roni (major major star and organizer of Fitbloggin!) Kat, Deb, Hazel, and most recently, Kenlie! (traveling rock star!)
So I’ve met a few folks from my cyber community. But it will be nothing like the surreal experience of seeing hundreds of my “virtual” friends all together, IN PERSON, FACE TO FACE, in one place! There will be 300 bloggers at Fitbloggin’ and I think it’s safe to say I’ve read the blogs of half of them, and been a mad raving FAN of dozens of them. I can’t believe I’m going to actually meet:…. err….
Okay, I was just going to list all the people I am excited to get to meet and realized it would take me ALL DAY to list them all with their links, so… suffice it so say, there are LOTS of them! So many that I can’t count them all and I fear my head is going to explode.
I am excited.
Part of me is nervous though. In spite of the Free Hugs campaign that I actually helped organize (along with Alan). I can tell that my anxiety level is a bit higher than usual. I’ve been doing some, er, nervous eating. Last night I had an anxiety dream that I managed to gain 50 lbs in 4 days and that I was standing on a stage weighing more than my “before” weight. (heh. classic dream)
But I am going to be standing on a stage. Which is both the culmination of a huge dream AND a source of major nerves. I’m going to be performing for the Fitbloggin community, my solo show which is basically all about THEM. How awesome is that. But also it feels big. (I’m used to performing for nice little audiences of 30)
At any rate, I am both thrilled out of my mind and jittery. Which is normal. We’re all jittery. But I’m ready. I have my business cards. I have my Totoro hat. I have my Free Hugs shirt and buttons. I have my hugging arms and my camera. One thing I know is that two days is going to be totally insufficient for all the meeting, greeting, sharing, hugging, laughing and sweating I intend to do (including the Fitbloggin 5k run! and stuff with Ugi balls and such!).
Six months ago, I vowed to myself that I wanted to be in the Very Best Shape of my Life at Fitbloggin. Well, life had other plans and I am not exactly in the best shape of my life. I’m not in the worst either, but I’m not in any peak sort of form. But it’s okay. My arms are in fine shape for hugging, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?
Comment here if you are going to Fitbloggin! Or if you went last year! Or if you’re not going but wish you were!
Two years ago, the same week that I received my diabetes diagnosis, I attended a night of solo performance. I was going to see a friend of mine, but as is often the case, she was performing in a showcase with a few other people I didn’t know. One of them was a woman named Lisa-Marie. I had no idea what her show was about, but as the lights came up and she started acting the part of her mother, “Lisa! Lisa! We have to check your numbers!” I knew that it was about diabetes. And it was. The friends I had come with started tossing concerned glances my way. They knew I had been fairly traumatized by this news from my doctor.
Turns out that Lisa-Marie has Type 1 Diabetes, what used to be called “juvenile diabetes” because she was diagnosed as a child. And in one scene, she was ranting about how frustrating it is to be misunderstood for that “OTHER” kind of diabetes, the kind that fat people who eat too many cheeseburgers get.
Ouch.
I remember slumping down in my seat, my face burning with embarrassment. I think I had a bit of an out-of-body experience for a few minutes. Yeah. That’s the kind of diabetes that *I* had. The kind that you bring on yourself. The kind where it’s all your fault (you disgusting pig). I died a million deaths during that 15 minute show, and when it was over I fled the theater like I’d been set on fire.
Well. Funny how life turns out. Last week I did a performance of my own show, and guess who else was in my lineup? Yes, none other than the same Lisa-Marie, who did an amazing piece about breast cancer (entitled “Nice Rack.” It was fabulous). And I knew that I had to talk to her about her show, and my show, and my life, and how it all linked together.
And I was talking to her, I realized (huge flash) that even though seeing her show had been absolutely excruciating back then, it also solidified in me a feeling of “HELL NO. Nobody is ever, ever, ever going to talk about me and MY diabetes that way.” And I realize now that it was a very very real and clear catalyst for my getting healthy. She was one of the things that pushed me into my journey in a very real way. And while her show had upset and embarrasssed me, it also was one of the greatest gifts I could’ve gotten.
Right in the midst of my own performance on Wednesday night (dress rehearsal for my performance at Fitbloggin next week!!), I added a line just for her. 🙂 “Oh no. I brought this on myself. I can’t tell anybody. I’m so embarrassed. I know what they say about people who get Type 2 diabetes – that happpens to people who too many cheeseburgers…. but… I don’t eat THAT many cheeseburgers. Do I?” It’s sort of a poignant/funny line, and now I know it’s going to stay in there.
It’s kind of amazing to me how many people come up to me after a performance and say, “I have prediabetes. But I haven’t done anything about it. But now…” Or the same thing about a family member or friend. And I hope that maybe my show can be the same kind of catalyst for them.
I didn’t make myself have diabetes, not 100% anyway. Genetics does that. But once I have it I can choose to ignore it or manage it and be as healthy as I can anyway. That’s what I choose.
Now I’m dreaming up ways that Lisa-Marie and I can do our shows together, the voices of Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes coming together. How cool would THAT be.
Has a performance/book/movie/painting or other piece of art ever influenced how you lived YOUR life?
I’ve dreamed of running in the wacky, huge, only-in-San Francisco Bay to Breakers race ever since I moved here in 1982. And then for many years that dream receded into “Yeah, just like I’ll win the lottery”! unachievable fantasyland. But in recent years it’s seemed do-able. So this year I was very very excited to register for the 100th (!!!) Bay to Breakers race.
I registered MONTHS ago.
Then my workplace scheduled its annual weekend spa retreat (seriously!!) on the SAME weekend. Yeah, one of the greatest perks of this job is the annual (paid) retreat to this very nice hot and cold springs spa. It’s NICE. Everyone goes and just has a great weekend. This was very disappointing, but the plan was that I would go up to the spa on Friday afternoon, then leave on Saturday evening so I could be home, get ready and race on Sunday morning.
This was my plan until just this week when I began realizing that B2B is no 5k. It’s a 12k – over 7 miles – and I have NOT TRAINED. And there is very little time for me to do so between now and then.
Ack.
So, these are my options as I see them:
1. I can stick to Plan A, go to the race, and do the best I can, which could end up being running, walking, or doing a combo of the two. (most likely scenario)
OR
2. I could just scrap it and stay with my family in Calistoga the whole weekend for some much needed soaking and R & R. Ahhhhhh.
This decision is compounded by the fact that even though there will be hundreds of thousands of people, I am virtually doing this race alone. I know two people who are doing it, but we haven’t like formed a caterpillar or made up wacky customs or even made plans to meet up. I asked a ton of people to do it with me, but nobody else signed up. 😦 One of the funnest parts of B2B is doing it with a bunch of friends who all dress up (or run naked, heh) and that just won’t be my experience this year.
SO. What should I do? Part of me is/was so excited for this race, but I so freaking hate being unprepared.
What should I dooooooooo??????????????
————————————UPDATE —————————————————————
This process has been so interesting! Yes, the unofficial poll of comments here and on FB say that “spa!” is winning. So a few days ago, I decided I’d pass my race bib to my friend @Pubsgal. THEN I realized I had opted out of the mail-in race packet option, and I had to go to the race Expo to pick up my number.
Well. THAT changed everything. Because as in “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” and one thing leads to another, I know myself. I know that if I attend that expo, I am sure as heck want to do that race. The energy and buzz inside an expo is so exhilarating and it just gets me so pumped for a race. I love race expos! I think I went to the Las Vegas one like THREE TIMES before the half marathon.
I also realized, if I go to the spa Friday afternoon, I can really have 24 full hours of R & R. It’s like having my cake and eating it too!
So yesterday I thought I better go out and see if I can do the distance. I decided I’d try and do the 7 miles and see how it felt. After the first half mile of WALKING, my ankle was feeling truly jankety and unstable and I had funny little shooting pains. And I thought, “that’s it. NO RACE.” I felt sad but also that it was a clear answer.
Wait a minute. One of my “running” songs came on my iPod and I gingerly starting running a bit. The pain went away. For real.
My miles 2-5 were GREAT feeling. And then of course I was like, yeah! Bring it on! I’m doing Bay to Breakers!
I had to end my run at 6.1 miles because Juniorette was finishing up her own (rowing) race at that moment and I wanted to be there at HER finish line. So I stopped. But was feeling just fine.
I thought for sure I was headed for some sort of binge today. I could feel a intense vibrating inside my body, which in years past was almost a precursor to a mindless snarfing down of any edible thing in my path. Today was the funeral of a friend and colleague of mine, who died last week. But I’ve been numb for a week, numb and busy and somehow not really able to comprehend that her death (unexpected and tragic) was true.
This morning as I prepared to go to the service, I knew that I was going to have to face what I had tried to avoid all week. And as I said, I could feel this vibration inside me, this out of control shaking that in the past could only be calmed with food. This feeling that I could fly apart into a thousand pieces if I didn’t somehow anesthetize myself.
I was nervous. But also somewhat resigned. It was going to happen. A voice inside me didn’t care. It was ready. I went into the service feeling defeated, but also a sense of “Whatever it takes to get through this.”
Soon after I got there one of my dearest friends came and sat next to me. I could feel myself starting to fall apart. Seeing all the people who loved and cared for this person. Someone came up to me and said, “You have to keep it together for all the rest of us.” I think I literally squeaked, “ME?” and then shook my head like, oh no, I’m not taking that job. Because I have been keeping it together all week – in meetings, on the phone, in the office, at my work. And I knew today that it was all going to come down.
As I listened to my friend’s family members- her brother and sister and dear friends, and our mutual boss and friend – speak about her, I could feel myself slowly “leaking.” The tears were dripping down. And then finally one of my camp counselors got up to speak and I just freaking LOST IT. I sobbed totally out of control.
It was a beautiful, wrenching, excruciating and incredible service. And when it was over and I got up to go to the catered luncheon, I knew that I was not going to binge out. That vibrating feeling? Had been totally calmed after I had my good cry.
I’ve already written up an information page about the retreat I’ll be hosting in September, but I really wanted to blog about it, to have the meandering freedom to explain just what this thing is and why I think it’s going to be so incredibly awesome.
First, the place. I’ve been visiting Santa Sabina for hourlong to weeklong retreats for over twenty years now. I stumbled upon it when I first went to a week-long calligraphy retreat (I used to be a calligrapher! Little known fact!) and felt I’d found a piece of paradise. Santa Sabina was once a convent for Dominican nuns and is now a retreat center. But the lovely simple rooms, the chapel, the courtyard meditation garden, the Hermitage (where one can be a “hermit” for a time!) are all a true sanctuary for the soul. Since then, I have spent days there writing, reading, sleeping, dreaming. Just being in this beautiful is deeply healing and soothing. So it is a dream of mine to be able to host a retreat there (where I have attended many).
One of the beautiful things about Santa Sabina is the many opportunities for silence, which is so scarce in our everyday lives. We eat our meals (except for final lunch) in silence. It is truly an amazing experience. Have you ever tried it? We will pass certain parts of each day in quiet contemplation. Some of us might write. Or sleep. Or walk. But it is a gift to spend a part of a day without having to talk (or listen!). It can be astonishingly rich.
I’ve changed the name of this retreat three times now. First, I called it “Body My House: A Retreat” which was symbolic of this poem which I love so much by May Swenson:
Question
Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen
Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt
Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead
How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye
With cloud for shift
how will I hide?
I often think about my body – is it my horse, my hound, my house, my prison? Then I realized that perhaps this title was too abstract and people might not have any clue what it was about. So I changed it to “Writing the Body.” Which led to some people being wildly enthusiastic (writers!) and other people feeling maybe somewhat intimidated (“I’m not a writer”).
So I’ve now come to “Stories of the Body: A Retreat.” How many times will this evolve before September? Only time will tell! Because my intention is for the stories to emerge in whatever way we choose. Many of us will choose writing. We will share some poems and prose about the body to prime the pump. But I want to stress that no writing experience is necessary. At all. There will be some writing prompts, and this may inspire some of us in a wordy kind of way. But the lovely thing about Santa Sabina is that it invites so many different forms of expression. There is an absolutely wonderful art basement with separate rooms and nooks for collage making, painting, papermaking, calligraphy, crayons, oil pastels, water painting (it vanishes in a minute!) and more. There are numerous places to just sit and BE. The weekend will be a place to let the stories float to the surface in many forms. A time to just be with these bodies and see what they have to tell us. I’m also planning some lovely opportunities for moving (walking meditation, an optional hike, and maybe some Nia or yoga). People who want to treat their bodies to a massage can do so. There will be times for sharing and times for being alone and quiet.
The reason I’m organizing this event is to turn to another, deeper facet of seeking health and wholeness. I want to go beyond fitness challenges and counting calories – all of which have served me immensely – to a more contemplative place. Because I feel like this is the piece that is most often missing when we are seeking health, weight loss, transformation – really understanding the stories we have been told , the stories that we tell and that we deeply believe about ourselves.
I am currently seeking some event sponsors to see if I can get some kind of scholarship fund together, to lessen the costs or perhaps provide some travel stipends if possible. If there are any event sponsors out there who would like to support this weekend, please let me know!
This is not going to be a huge event. Maximum participation is 35 people and we already have quite a few registrations. There is a deep discount for Early Bird registrants, people who sign up with a buddy and people who spread the word. 🙂 Full details are available here. Comment here if you have any questions. I am so looking forward to this event, and I am hoping that you will join us.
Last night we returned from a ten-day trip to London and Paris, our very first trip to Europe, made possible by a miraculous and generous turn of events. Mr. McBody’s cousin and family were returning to France for the first time in ten years (he lived there for years, and she is from France) and they invited us to come along. At first it seemed completely impossible, what with our family logistics and everything. But then his completely amazing and wonderful aunt and uncle offered to fly cross-country to take care of Nana and Juniorette in our absence, no small feat, given everyone’s complex schedules, driving requirements and the like. It seemed like an offer we could not refuse.
So we went! I thought long and hard what to do about all the Food I was going to be encountering while I was there. On one hand, I didn’t want this trip to be an excuse for a total free-for-all. On the other hand, I wanted to be able to experience new and wonderful things. So I decided beforehand that I would do a lot of walking, that I would continue my no-sugar #7daychip challenge, and that hopefully it would all work out in the end.
I’d say it did. My Directlife activity monitor was probably stunned by the dramatic uptick in activity, and on a completely new time schedule. I averaged about 120% of my daily target while I was gone, and considering I was averaging around 80% in the weeks before I left, that was great. I managed to eat no sweets in London. In Paris, there were many, many temptations and I decided to forego them, because once that particular domino fell, I knew that was going to be that.
Until the last night. After five days of perusing all the sweet offerings to be had in Paris, I decided that what I really wanted to try was some famous Berthillon ice cream. After having a nice dinner for our final evening, we walked to a tiny island where all the ice creameries are. They sell ice cream by the “ball” and we chose vanilla, dark chocolate and coffee.
I was very excited for this moment.
I had a small spoonful of each flavor. It was very, very yummy. In retrospect, I wouldn’t have felt deprived if I hadn’t eaten it. But I was glad that I had. I did notice that after eating that ice cream I suddenly felt more “curious” about other sweets. But I stayed away.
The best, most awesome and wonderful thing that I ate in Paris (other than the cheese of course) was the crazy delicious falafel I discovered in the Marais (Jewish) neighborhood. This even beat the nice, white-tablecloth dinner we had. It was so good, we even went back the 2nd night in a row and ate more falafel. YUM YUM YUM.
It was a long time to be eating out every single meal. In spite of all the walking (basically from morning until night) I did gain a few pounds. But it’s no more than I’ve gained (sometimes in a weekend) on other vacations and I know it’s manageable.
EDITED TO ADD: After 24 hours post-flight, the weight gain is ALL GONE! I am down to my pre-vacation weight! YAHOOO!
It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I am so grateful that we had this opportunity. But you know, there’s no place like home. I was so happy to wake up in my own bed today, and to go to our very own farmer’s market. The food in France is truly mind boggling, but so is the fresh beauty of a California farmer’s market. We took Aunt J there this morning and she was ECSTATIC to be eating raw oysters on the street, just like she remembered growing up as a little girl in New Orleans.
I’m just relieved and happy to be home. I am excited to get back into a workout routine. I want to lose my vacation pounds before Fitbloggin, and I want to be nice and ready for the 100th Bay to Breakers coming up. It was so awesome to get away, but even more awesome to come back.
I want to thank JackSh*t, Karen, Tracey and Tara for keeping the home fires burning by guest-blogging for me in my absence. I hope you’ll go back and read their fabulous posts and leave them some comment love.
I am so unbelievably honored and thrilled to introduce you all to Tara of Life Changing Journey, who is one of my person heroes. Her honesty and determination and sheer willingness to do WHATEVER IT TAKES (physically, emotionally, spiritually) to find health and wholeness – just blows me away. Tara, thank you for being here. Okay readers, are you ready?? Have Kleenex at hand.
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For the first 40 years of my life, I abused my body. I used it to hide my emotions. I used it to comfort my fears and frustrations. I used it to shield me from the hurt and pain that I longed to stop feeling. I didn’t move it. I didn’t take care of it. I didn’t love it one bit. In fact, I hated it. I hated my body and I made damn sure my body knew it.
I became a prisoner in my own skin.
I locked myself in and threw away the key. Every year I had fleeting thoughts that maybe this would be the year that I changed. This would be the year I would learn to love and care for myself. This would be the year I would free myself from the prison I had lived in for so long….
Then the year would pass I would still hate myself. Still couldn’t stand to look at the person in the mirror. Still couldn’t bring myself to have a little faith that I deserved to live a better life. I resigned myself to living the life of a morbidly obese woman that found very little enjoyment out of life except for when I was playing video games or indulging in an emotional eating episode…
Funny thing about my body…
It never gave up on me. It would open up that cage door and give me the opportunity to stand up and walk out of my emotional prison. Every time I turned it down, my body would wait patiently. Again it would open the door ever so slightly and wait for me to finally believe…
I’m free of my prison now. Life on the outside is more beautiful than I ever imagined. I’m so far away from that prison cell that I have a hard time remembering what it was like being there. Locked away. Slowly dying, emotionally and physically, and not really caring. Now I care. I care more than I ever thought possible. I will fight tooth and nail and to my death to never return to that prison. I’m still scared, frustrated and learning to live in my emotions but can I let you in on a little secret?
The view is so much better out here.
I don’t know where you are on your journey. Maybe you’ve locked yourself in and thrown away the key. Maybe the years have come and gone and you too wonder if you’ll ever stand up and leave the confines of you cell. Maybe you’ve abused your body and you think that there is no way it’s going to do what you ask what you ask it to do. Maybe you’re afraid to unlock your cell door and see what’s out here. Listen, you get to unlock that door. Do you hear me: You get to unlock the heavy door that you thought would never move. You get to push it wide open, you get to step across the threshold and embark on the journey of a lifetime.
foodfoodbodybody 