I started at my heaviest weight of 252 pounds on April 4, 2008. I couldn’t believe that I had gone beyond 250 pounds. That 2 behind the 5 might as well have just read 300 on the scale as far as I was concerned. I was disgusted with myself. I wasn’t just disgusted with the way that I looked; I was mostly disgusted with what kind of mother I was being to my two daughters. They were witnessing a mom who was eating a lot of sugar, carbs, and just about everything else in our pantry or Krispy Kremes. My younger sister, who was my dearest friend passed away that year in February from a heart attack at the age of 29. I know you are thinking you read that number wrong. Twenty-nine! Her death was a wakeup call like no other.
I knew that my health wasn’t going to change unless I made the effort to change. I not only wanted to be healthy and around for as long as possible for my kids, but I wanted to be around for my sister’s kids as well. I wanted my daughters and my nieces to witness a woman that was taking care of herself and focused on health, not a dress size. I wanted them to learn from my mistakes and my successes.
I joined Weight Watchers in April and began my weight loss journey, slowly and steadily. I lost 3 pounds the first week and after that I would lose .2 pounds one week, gain a pound one week, lose 2 pounds another week and continued on that way until November. By November I had lost a total of 47 pounds. I was feeling great. Everyone was beginning to notice my hard work and that really encouraged me to keep pushing myself.
My husband is a heavy guy and wanted to lose weight, so at 300 pounds he announced to me that he was going to compete in a triathlon. I told him that was great and offered my encouragement while in my mind and beneath my swollen, bleeding bitten tongue, I thought, well this won’t last. I am glad that I chose to support his efforts, because this man couldn’t even swim a lap in the pool at the YMCA. After a few weeks, he was swimming 8 laps at a time. I thought, if he can do that at 300 pounds then I think I can run a marathon at 234 pounds.
Was I a runner when I was younger, you might be wondering. The answer is no. I have always hated running. I don’t think that I had ever run more than 2 minutes consecutively at a time. Any time I tried to run in the past, I would get that sharp pain in the side and I would stop and congratulate myself on my brave effort.
I began researching marathon training and came across www.marathonrookie.com. This was such a great site. I took the schedule for beginners to the gym with me. I walked to warm up for 5 minutes, then I ran for what was supposed to be 2 minutes, but I only lasted 48 seconds. In the past, I would have just said to myself that I tried and that was it, I can’t do it, but I kept thinking about my sister. I kept thinking what she must be thinking of me looking down on me and me giving up right away. I thought about what my daughters would think of me if I went home and told them and my husband that I tried and after 48 seconds, I just can’t do it. I walked at a leisurely pace, I cranked up Eminem on my iPod and I psychologically pumped myself up to beat of the music. I pushed the upward facing arrow on the treadmill and my legs moved faster and faster. I focused on my form, my breathing, my music, my feet hitting just the right way on the tread and looked down and I had run one minute and 30 seconds. My legs were burning, my ankles ached, so of course I slowed down. I kept this up for half an hour. I could barely walk the next day; my shins were in such pain, my knees felt like someone was in my leg pushing nails into the bone. I honestly liked the way I felt. The pain made me aware of the fact that I had done something for myself. I had done something for my family.
Two days later, I ran a little longer and more frequently. I progressed to running up to two miles within a few weeks. I enjoyed running outdoors with no music. I felt so alive listening to my breath, the sound of how fast or slow my feet hit the pavement, the sounds of nature around me. I am not one for running on the side of the road listening to traffic. I find scenic trails to run so that I feel inspired and enjoy the outdoors. I feel very spiritual in that environment. I decided to register for the the St. Judes 5k in December. I was so excited. I got my St. Jude socks in the mail with my donation packet. I couldn’t wait. I was excited to find out what that atmosphere would feel like. To be in the company of others that shared a love for running. Did I forget to mention that? I actually fell in love with running.
Two weeks before the 5k I got very sick with some kind of stomach virus while on vacation at Disney World. I know the worst place to feel sick is in the company of Mickey and Friends. I thought I would take it easy for a few days and then get back to training.
It is now April 19th a little over a year that my journey began and I am still sick. I have never fully recovered from what I had. I am still 100% undiagnosed after an endoscopy and colonoscopy in December, a heart cathe in January, two CT scans, numerous blood tests and the list goes on and on. I have been to specialists, chiropractors, and emergency rooms, but still have no definitive answers or diagnosis. I am being treated for fibromyalgia, which there is no test for or cure, but there are treatments. During all of those months, I never gave up. I wasn’t able to run due to severe chest, leg and arm pain, but I continued to work out, I continued to watch what I ate.
I didn’t get to run that 5K in December or run the ½ Country Music Marathon in Nashville this month, but I am down a total of 71 pounds. I have gone from a size 22 pants to a size 12. I have gone from being in the obese according to the BMI chart to overweight and only a few pounds away from being “normal”. I don’t think I have ever been considered normal in any form my whole life, so I look forward to getting to that goal.
I got a flyer in the mail this week for another St. Jude 5k in May. I am going to run that Saturday. My husband will compete in the triathlon that Sunday. I ran today for 8 minutes straight on the treadmill. I didn’t even know if I could run any more. It felt good and best feeling was to discover that the love is still there.
I hope you will join me on my journey to my weight loss goals and maintenance of that loss each day. I hope that you will feel inspired to do something you didn’t know you could do. I hope that you will share your stories with me.
I began this website so that there will not be little girls losing their young mothers or fathers due to an unhealthy lifestyle. We all have it within us to make a change for the better. Be well and after you read this get off of you lazy butt and do something physically that you love.