Enough

Some days are just better than others. Especially when it comes to working out. There are days when I'm in cycling class and I can't seem to get my legs to go any faster, when I can't seem to push myself to go to the next level. If I'm low energy a day here, a day there, no biggie. We all sometimes are off of our game. But too many off days and I have to wonder. I have to really ask myself if being at the gym is enough.

I've struggled with answering that question for a long time. I mean, sure, I walked through the doors of the gym. I seated myself on the bike and I rode for the entirety of the class.  Sometimes throughout the class I matched the instructors intensity becoming uncomfortable and breathless. Sometimes blanking out and thinking of all sorts of other things. But I finished. I was there. Some would say I should give myself some credit for being there.  I can appreciate that. I also can't help but feel that If I want to become stronger, fitter, and lose more weight being there is simply not enough.
 
Everyone has to determine for themselves if being there is enough. I tuned into to watch The French Open on and off over the last couple of weeks. Playing in a grand slam is as big as it gets for those tennis players. The Women's Finals was a competitive match with both women playing hard and going for it. Serena Williams was the winner. Best believe she wasn't just there. She went for it. In the Men's Finals, however, Jo-Wilifried Tsonga didn't quite seize his opportunity. He was beaten in straight sets and from my position on the couch it didn't look like he gave it much of a fight either. Sure, he can say he was there. He can say he played in The French Open Finals and was runner-up. Maybe for him that's enough. Only he can answer that.

I'm proud of myself for battling obesity publicly and honestly. I do give myself credit for what I've achieved. But, I can't rest on my laurels. I'm playing to not only battle but to beat obesity. I'm playing to win. So, for me being at the gym is just not enough.

What Separates Us

It's no secret that I was off my workout game for a while, about six months. And it had been even longer since I worked out at 24 Hour Fitness. But, now that I'm back at it, at 24 Hour Fitness. I've noticed something.

I see the same familiar faces. The tiny, fierce lady who is always going hard on The StairMaster, the buffed guy, Marcus, who is always lifting, and the older couple who always team up side-by-side on the elliptical machines.

Working out had become a very big part of my life (it is a big part of my life) and I logged a lot of hours at the gym. I met a lot of people there. Recently, I ran into, Allen, a young energetic fella I used to joke around with. We chatted a little. I told him I was just now getting back at it, after a hiatus. Very nonchalantly, he said, "It makes no difference. You're here. We're here. That's what separates us."

Allen's right. It's a choice. It's a commitment. It's a lifestyle. It's not about once or twice. It's not about one day, one week, or one month. It's about doing it again and again and again. And If there's a bump in the road, which there will be. Adjust to the bump and continue down the road.

I'm far from being an athlete. Nor, am I the strongest gal in the gym. But,what I am is, committed. I realize that this get fit thing is a lifestyle. I also realize that I can't lose the weight or become fit if I quit. So, I continue on. I don't have to, but I choose to. It's not that I'm better or stronger. It's not that Allen is better or stronger. Okay, maybe he is. But, what separates us is our willingness, our commitment.

Simple things

I don't want to start this blog off on the negative, but the fact of the matter is being weighed down by 388 pounds kind of limits your ability to do things. Normal everyday things. Things most people take for granted.

Now, that I've shed the pounds let me tell you...It's a wonderful thing to be able to walk effortlessly, bend over and tie my shoes, cross my legs, and heck -- help move a sofa.

Yesterday, I proudly helped my uncle move my new sofa. We unloaded it from the truck, and carried it 25 feet into the house. It felt good to kneel down, pick the sofa up, and haul it.

Today, I celebrate my body and the ordinary everyday functions that I am able to perform. The countless weight lifting and cardio classes I've endured have not been taken in vain. I'm stronger and more flexible. Coming from a place of morbid obesity makes me appreciate the simple things.  They haven't always been so simple.

Recovery journal

Day 34: I'm getting stronger everyday. My leg is virtually pain free. I take the stairs easier, faster. When walking on crutches I don't fatigue as quickly. With the chair on wheels I'm mobile in the kitchen again. At this rate, I may be marathon ready by June 19th. ;)