Crippled

I jokingly call myself crippled – which, according to the definition I am. The other day, however, as I drove home from a kick butt workout session with my Personal Trainer, Megan it occurred to me that I was more crippled when I weighed 388 lbs. than I am today with a broken leg. It takes a lot of physical effort to get around on a broken leg. When I first broke my leg there were some mental barriers I had to break through, but they weren’t nearly as stifling as the barriers I faced when I was morbidly obese (MO).

The effort to get to Megan’s studio as a MO person would have been overwhelming. There is a wicked flight of stairs that take you up to the studio and surely as a MO person I would have talked myself out of it. I mean the stairs would have caused labored breathing, sweat, all things that I would rather not have encountered as a MO person. But with a broken leg and shining spirit, I hobble out of my car on crutches to the back entrance of Megan’s studio and she assists me to the freight elevator. Once I’m in the studio I go to work. I perform exercises that some skinny supposedly in shape folks can’t perform. How? Why? My mind is free. My spirit is renewed. I’m no longer a passenger. I drive.

At 388 lbs., I was crippled by excuses. I was crippled with negative self-talk. I was crippled by obesity. No longer, not even a surgically repaired broken leg will keep me from doing what I long to do. I shake and gyrate in Zumba from a chair. I still go to the gym where I do upper body workouts and flirt with hot guys. I train with a personal trainer. I attend social events on crutches. Crippled is a state of mind and I am NOT crippled. I may hobble, wobble, and limp, but I go for it!