Sunday, January 13, 2013

Rule #5: Always Try Your BEST

I am a first grade teacher.  Many of you may know this because you know me personally.  Some may know this because of my often hilarious (at least to me) random moments/comments/stories shared from just another day in the classroom.  Others may know it because you've seen me in line at Target after 5:30pm on a weekday with marker on my hands or holding a classroom supply of animal crackers.  And many may know it because, well, I just told you.  So now that THAT's settled .......

I am just like any teacher.  Well, I'd like to think I bring at least SOMETHING different to the table.  But just like any educator out there, I have classroom rules.  You know, so the kids know what's up.  So they 1) listen, 2) raise their hand, 3) be kind, 4) take care of our things, and 5) always try our best.  Yep, those pretty much cover it all and, I've found, can relate back to any infraction that a kid can possibly break.  For example: "Tommy didn't flush the toilet!"  "Well, he wasn't being kind to the next person to park their buns on the seat now was he??"  or "He said my Mom is ugly!" "Well that's silly, and definitely not exhibiting kindness is it?  He doesn't even KNOW your Mom, does he?!  Because if he did know your Mom, he'd have said she was actually ..... did he say he was sorry??"  But when you think about it, rule #5 is the catch-all for rules #1-4 anyways.  Because if you're trying your best at all times, then you are listening, and raising your hand and being kind and taking care of our things and not calling Tiffany's Mom an old hag.

Which brings me back to me -- when do I always try my best?  I'm so quick to point out to my students when they are, when they aren't, and when they really should be.  When do I point out my own missed opportunities to be better than I am during any given moment?

Always try your best seems kind of like it would be a great life rule for everyone - no matter the age, no matter the race, and most definitely no matter the moment that you're currently facing.  There have been many times when I've heard my students say, in the face of defeat from a very tough spelling test mind you, "well, I tried my best!"  and walk away feeling as confident, as only they know how, that they did, in fact, do their best in that moment.  So why can't we adults do the same?  We uphold expectations for so many others in our lives, encourage them to never give up, pursue their dreams, fight the good fight etc etc etc.  Then when it comes to ourselves ..... we quit.  No more gas in the tank.  No more fight in the rink.  And then, when we actually do put up a fight, it's never good enough.  You know what we are?  Hypocrites.

Maybe we need to start looking through the eyes of a child.  Maybe it IS just about trying your best and smiling at the end of the day because you did.  Now don't excuse this train of thought as settling for LESS than your best.  I do believe there is a difference between the two.  Everyone has their own level of "best" and it's their responsibility to reveal it to themselves.  But at some point, you have to stop and smell the Crayolas.  You're worthy of trying your best, too.  And when you do, smile that you did and begin planning for your next moment to be better than the one you're standing in now.                   

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

It's OK

*Author's note (how fun was that to just call myself an author!)*
It's been a while since I've written/blogged.  One of my personal commitments to myself in 2013 is to write more and more and more - because I love it and it's both therapeutic and reflective.  In the coming days/weeks I'm going to be working on updating the look and feel of my blog - so please, stay tuned! :)



I remember the holidays of 2010.  I was in a very similar predicament as many - overweight (and then some), feeling absolutely exhausted with feeling absolutely exhausted (yes, that's possible), and dreaming of change.  I remember making the decision to commit to changing my life by focusing on my health.  I also remember how intimidating that was.  

I love seeing all of the optimism and hope among so many as we have begun a new year with a world of new possibilities and opportunities.  But my mind also has flashbacks of Jan. 2011 when I was just beginning my own journey.  It was both exciting and absolutely frightening.  As I read of many who are "starting now", I think of how much they're going to go through mentally as they begin.  I think of those things because they're all the things I went through and, believe it or not, still do from time to time.  We're all human.  It's OK to accept this.

This morning, Jan. 1st, 2013, as I was working on my 5K at the gym, I thought of all the things I'd say to those whom are starting their journey anew this 2013.  Here is my letter of hope to them...


Dear Friend,

I want you to know that I'm proud of you.  You might look at others and think they've more of a reason to be proud because they're skinny, or toned, or know what to eat and when to eat it and don't go on a food sabotage when life gets tough.  But, I'm proud of YOU.  Because you've decided to change your life today .... and tomorrow, and next week, and prayerfully for the rest of your life.  That's the first step and, rightfully so, one of the hardest.  But as gung-ho as you feel right now about a brand new year and pursuing a brand new you, let's keep it real.  You're going to feel defeated very soon.  I don't want you to, but you will.  When you walk into the gym for the first time and feel like you've no idea where to begin while everyone else is already 15-20-30 minutes into their workouts... it's OK, they are not on your journey.  When you leave and feel exhausted, yet don't "feel" like you've made a difference in your health...it's OK, you have and please, go back again tomorrow.  And when you go back again tomorrow and you're on the treadmill or the elliptical or the stationary bike and you're cursing at yourself in your head because you can't believe you've allowed yourself to get to this ungodly stage of discomfort.... it's OK, just keep going.  In the days and weeks ahead, you're going to feel overwhelmed and contemplate if it's even worth it.... it's OK, because you're not alone in that train of thought.  Sometimes after a long day at work, you're going to try and convince yourself that you've absolutely no gas left in the tank and that you've a million other better things to do with your time once you get home.... it's OK, because you do have gas left and I promise you, you won't regret having gone.  And those weeks when things just don't go right - you've either gotten sloppy with watching what you eat or the scale fails to depict the hard work you have put in... it's OK, there's always tomorrow.  Never feel like you're fighting this fight alone, yet never try to compare what you're doing with the next person.  Although we might all relate to the mental anguish we put ourselves through and the trials we constantly face, this journey is solely yours.  And not everyone will be on board with what you're trying to do.  That's inevitable.  Some might act like they are, but sadly, they're just being fake.  Some might take you improving your health as being cocky or pompous (which, by the way, makes absolutely NO sense to me since our health is the only thing we've got).  Some might purposefully or non-purposefully try to sabotage every effort you put forth, but never feel bad to just say no and carry on.  You can't please everyone, but that's OK.  You shouldn't need to.  Because who is this journey for?  It's for YOU.  Stay humble, yet hungry.  You're doing the right thing even when it feels like you're not even close. 

So, dear friend, this is it.  It's January 1st and now is the time when you said you'd commit to change.  You know it won't be easy and you know it's going to take sacrifice and balance, but you KNOW it's going to be worth it and so much more.  No matter what, just remember it's OK, OK?  Because it really is.  An imperfect journey is a perfect journey, made specifically for YOU.  Now go get 'em. :)

Sincerely,
Heather
The girl whom, after two years, is STILL telling herself .... "it's OK".  
      

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Suffocation


*Please note, this blog contains a picture that you may or may not really want/care to see.  So I figured I’d warn you now.  It’s about half of the way in to my post.  And the picture offends anyone, I apologize.  But it’s reality.  My reality.* 



I really miss wearing jeans.  I still wear them, but it’s truly a love/hate relationship as nothing says “love” quite like a button making a clear indentation into your “flub”.  Speaking of which, although my “below the belly button flub” will be sucked in post zip, all it does is push it up and make my “above the belly button flub” stick out even more.  I hate it.  I truly do.  Please tell me somebody understands what kind of torture I’m speaking of!  Sometimes I try to put jean-wearing in to perspective: “Heather, you could be forced to wear a pleated skirt right now, which would undoubtedly give you chub rub on your inner thighs” or “Remember Heather, you could be wearing nothing at all right now!”  But then again, even perspective and a whole lot of spandex waists can only take you so far.  I miss wearing jeans. 

Recently I stopped by to visit one of my good friend’s, Lane Bryant.  The ONLY thing I was in there for were jeans, so I headed straight for the overpriced denim section in hopes of finding something to fit my "flabulous" needs.  I wasn’t very optimistic, but I grabbed a few pairs and found my way to the fitting room.  Now ladies (and if you’re a frequent shopper of LB, you may be able to relate to this), what in the heck is the deal with their color coding for jeans?  They’ve had it for some time, and I’m just gonna keep it real …. NONE of the colors work for my body!  Blues are an absolute no-no as I’m not super curvaceous.  Reds fit fine at first, until an hour or two in to wearing them and suddenly it appears I have a large dump in my pants (major sag factor).  And the yellows?  HA!  Realistically, that probably should be my color-coded jean of choice, however putting them on is like putting on leggings …… made of no spandex or elastic.  Complete joke.  But I digress …. So I’m trying on these jeans, color-coded by Rainbow Brite, and NONE of them worked.  It wasn’t even that I couldn’t fit in to any of them, it was just that they made me feel absolutely positively wretched.  I had those jeans on for less than a minute and it felt like a century – a century of feeling absolutely worthless.  When I had those jeans on, I can honestly say I hated myself.  How could an inanimate object such as jeans give so much life to the emotions I feel towards myself and my worth?  Simple.  It just did.  Any of the good I’ve done in the past, in that moment, was out the window.  All I could focus mentally on was how absolutely horribly disgusting I felt physically with all of my pathetic, deplorable fat pushed up, making me feel as though I was suffocating in my own obesity.  I am suffocating.

I will admit, sometimes when I try something on in the dressing room, even though I’m disgusted with myself when things don’t fit or look right due to my size, I will stand there and look at myself in the mirror for a few moments.  I’m not admiring anything but possibly, subconsciously, trying to place that image in my mind of what I loathe, the look of discomfort and/or suffocation.  This time, however, I surprised even myself.  I went in to my purse, grabbed my phone, and opened it up to the camera.  And from there, I took this pic:


 Some of you may have glanced at that pic and saw yourselves.  You may have even suddenly felt suffocated.  And then again, some of you maybe have looked and seen nothing but a fat girl to feel sorry for.  But there is no reason to feel sorry for that which you don’t understand.  You see, although I will never claim to know what it’s like to walk in the shoes of another, please never tell me you know what it’s like to walk in mine in order to be sympathetic to my “issues.”  It’s ok to not understand.  You see, I’m fat.  And I’ve been fighting this demon for years.  Some years I’m used to it, and some years I’m sick of it.  Last year I decided to stand up to it, and so far this year I’ve felt afraid of it.  But never assume you know what this feels like unless you’ve truly been “there” (wherever “there” is).  Some people feel they’ve all the answers.  But if answers came that easily, that picture wouldn’t exist.  “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels!”  That’s a crock.  Because if all you know of is how good a piece of chocolate cake with buttercream frosting tastes, because you’ve never “tasted” skinny, then you’re gonna go with what you know, right?

What do I do with this picture; I’m still trying to figure that out.  What compelled me to share it?  I don't exactly know because coming from the girl with an extensive BLACK wardrobe, this is something way out of my element.  Maybe I wanted to make myself vulnerable  so that some of you could have a glimpse of my reality.  Perhaps someone out there might be feeling something similar in their own lives and, after seeing my reality, might not feel so alone.  One of my biggest fears in life is to drown.  Yet, what I'm not even realizing is that for so long over many, many years .... I've been drowning myself.  I pray that this picture can act as a daily reminder of those exact feelings of disgust that I felt while trying those jeans on.  It's time to come up for air.                      

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Excuse me, please .... I'm in the way.


It’s been a while since I’ve put fingers to keyboard with the purpose of “organizing” my mind’s ponderings.  For so long now, I’ve been telling myself repeatedly “I need to make something of my thoughts, and this blog!”  But, just as easy as I come across those words do I find myself putting it off because I think I don’t know what to say or what order to say them in.  Sounds similar to my journey towards better health.  Well, here goes nothing.

I thank the middle school girls’ volleyball team that I coach at the school where I teach for tonight’s topic: Motivation.  As teachers, we sometimes think our students never listen to a word we say (exceptions to the rule: recess, lunch, treat, no homework, time to go home, do I need to call your parent(s)).  Well, maybe we’re sometimes wrong.  In the midst of our last pep-talk before we took the court, as I’m sharing some of my profoundly wise words that are sure to guide my team on to victory, one of the 6th grade girls pipes up and says “This is kind of like that one writing assignment we had today.”  Now, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t give her this look of bewilderment with “and this has to do with volleyball how?” on the tip of my tongue.  But, I let her keep explaining – “Do you remember what we needed to write about?  What motivates us.  That’s just it – we need to think about that now.  What motivates you?”  As a teacher, I was proud of her application (and her ability to recall “what did you do in school today?”) of that assignment to real life.  As a coach, it fueled a valid point for her teammates that ended up being our driving question throughout the match (that we won, by the way).  As a human being with struggles of my own, it gave me thought.  What motivates ME? 
What motivated me for so long when I began my journey to better health over a year ago was the vision of better health – feeling better physically and mentally.  Loving myself unconditionally.  Underneath all of this exterior “fluff” is an athlete at heart who grew up watching her siblings play sports, watching sports on TV (what else was there, well that is until I discovered what was the amazing Saved By The Bell), and then playing sports myself.  With that being said, that competitor in me was the voice that pushed me to sign up for the 2011 Detroit Free Press Half-Marathon, having no running experience whatsoever and having weighed at that time nearly 375 pounds.  From February of 2011 until race day, I thought about that race every single day.  It WAS a huge motivating factor. Then Monday, October 17th 2011 hit.  The day after the race.  What now?  I’d accomplished such a huge feat (for me) and finished my first half-marathon.  But now what?  If I had to look back and pinpoint a moment that has held me back over these last few months, oddly enough, it’s one of the greatest moments that I’ve ever had in my life.  Go figure.  Or maybe it’s the stigma of a finish line.  There is no finish line in life.  Even when we pass on, our eternal lives are just beginning.  So why let one event’s end be a hurdle in the continuation of another?  

So here I am, March 27th at 10:45pm still wondering “what’s my motivation?”  Well, I’ll be honest.  I still struggle with this and at times, I don’t have a definitive answer for myself.  Is it the teenager in me that’s dying to prove that I’m not worthy of any school-age teasing and ridicule?  Is it the athlete in me that’s certain that deep down, I’m dying to make the game winning play?  Is it the little girl in me who’s never given up and believes that dreams do come true (this includes finding prince charming)?  Or is it me?  Am I my own motivation?  

I think over these last few months when I’ve just hovered around the same weight (down a little, up a little, up a little more, down a smidge ….) I’ve not thought enough about WHY I’m on this journey to begin with and, just as my young athlete questioned her teammates, what motivates me.  The problem with me, if this is a problem, is that I’m a very visual person.  I learn by seeing and I can see everything in how it should be in the future.  I visualize it and make a realistic mental image of how it should all play out …. and then I stall out.  I can create the vision in my mind, but putting it in to practice is a whole other scenario.  I am my own problem just as much as I am my own motivation.  So I must ask myself - What motivates me right now?  It’s not “finishing” what I’ve started but “continuing” what I’m destined to do.  What motivates me right now?  Not being in my own way.  It’s true what they say – we’re our own worst enemies.  I’m motivated to finally stop getting in my way.  What motivates you?


Saturday, August 6, 2011

Who did you run for?

I was asked that question today by a woman whom was standing near me after the race.  Actually, I asked her to take my picture and then we got to chatting.  She was an older woman and, according to her, "I used to live in Germany and we'd walk these 10Ks every day ..... but then I stopped doing it, ya know how that goes."  Yes, I do know how that goes.  What tipped you off? .... the fact that I didn't finish the race at the front of the pack or the additional floatation devices located around my midsection, upper arms, inner thighs (must I go on?)?  But any way you look at it, yes, I do know how that goes.  I'm about to walk back up the steps of the stadium, get out of the muggy sun because I was sweating enough already, and she says to me "So, who did you run for?"  Without thinking I replied, "myself."  I thought nothing of my response, it was the truth wasn't it?  But she looked at me kind of inquiringly and said "yourself? OK" and we parted ways.  I got to the top of the stadium steps and decided to have a seat before I left, and as I was taking in the surroundings and what I had accomplished that morning, I kept thinking "was it wrong of me to say I ran for me?"  Immediately it made me think of life - how we're often told to put others before ourselves, etc.  Does that have some validity to it?  Of course it does.  But, does that apply to what I accomplished this morning?  Is this journey for someone other than myself? 

Even though that nice woman's question still leaves me pondering this evening, I've come to the conclusion that yes, it is quite alright for me to have ran that race for ME.  In fact, it's quite alright for this entire journey to be for ME, too.  If I'm not doing it for myself, who am I doing it for and what good will it do?  We are born in to this world alone and we will exit this world alone, so although I'm not encouraging anyone to suddenly turn selfish on the world and all your loved ones, I am encouraging you to accept and embrace that your health and your life IS for you.  Look at it this way, if you spend your entire life trying to make others happy, and never given a second thought to making sure YOU are happy, what does that do for you?  Sure, some people say that seeing and helping others have joy, in turn, makes them have joy.  I get that.  I'm very much a people-pleaser myself.  But what I've grown to learn and accept on this journey is that it is OK, actually more than OK, to commit to a better you for you.  It's OK to tell someone you can't do something to help them because you're going to the gym.  It's OK to say "no thanks" so something yummy someone made if it makes you uneasy about staying on track with your food intake.  It's OK because this journey (and I use that term lightly because we all have journeys, and even though my journey might not be your journey .... we're still marching on in attempt to find solid ground) is for you and I.  So, if at another race I am asked "Who did you run for?" I can confidently say that my response would be the same ..... I ran for me.          

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Chicken Nuggets

Over the last couple of weeks, when I had a weakness for something, ANYTHING fast food oriented ... my mind instantly turned to chicken nuggets.  And not all, but some days my car also turned for chicken nuggets.  As in, turned in to McDonalds and went through the drive thru.  Chicken nuggets come in all sorts of sizes including 10 and now a 50 piece I believe?  (That must be for party platters.)  99.2948% of the time all I needed was a 4 piece (I do have some will power even though my car does not!), but it was at one point when I was driving home, the white golden arches bag nestled so preciously on the seat next to me just waiting to be opened, when I thought ... "Why chicken nuggets?"

One of my fondest childhood memories is spending time with my Grandma.  My Mom and Dad divorced when I was young, and thankfully since my Grandma lived so close I was afforded the opportunity to spend time at my Grandparent's house while my Mom worked a full-time job.  McDonalds was a hop, skip, and a jump from their house, so the station wagon made frequent trips to Micky Ds.  When my Grandma pulled up to the drive thru speaker, out of formality and as to not risk the chance of me throwing her a curve ball, she'd ask me "Heath, what do you want?"  But my reply was always "chicken nuggets!"  Oh I loved them so.  And don't forget the sweet and sour sauce, which if they did my Grandma would have no problems about calling them up afterwards and reaming them out and, in the process, getting free fries the next time we fancied our way over to the golden arches.  But regardless of how the trip fared, I always had that memory of getting chicken nuggets with Grandma.  My Grandma passed away in October of 2008.  Still seems hard to believe that she's gone.  Aside from my Mom, she was and always will be one of my biggest cheerleaders (I know, for a fact, that she still rings her cowbell for me from Heaven).

Emotional eating.  Ever experience that?  Who hasn't, right?  That's been one of my biggest challenges throughout this journey - finding a way to combat emotional eating and the urge to turn to food when life gets complicated.  And recently, I think my way of connecting to my Grandma has been through chicken nuggets.  When I bite in to one, I honestly have had flashbacks to being a kid and being with her.  And part of me wants to savor that flashback, but part of me knows that it's not the healthiest flashback to have.  Part of me feels like if I abandon chicken nuggets altogether, I'm abandoning that memory I share with my Grandma.  I guess I should be grateful my Ronald McDonald obsession wasn't Big Macs, huh?  But with all this being said, I'm left to ponder, "What is worth holding on to, the memory or the calories?"  We all will have had or will have moments when the idea of food being our comfort is more appealing than anything we can imagine.  But what do you do with that moment?  Do you walk in it and stay awhile, or do you walk away and accept that you can still have emotions, good or bad, and not have to edibily (is that a word?) comfort yourself?  And what happens if you stay awhile and eat your emotions?  How do you feel after?  Speaking for myself, I feel horrible.  Eating 4 chicken nuggets or a tub of ice cream or a bag of chips or a whole block of cheese won't change how you FEEL.  It just diverts whatever emotions you're feeling to the idea of yummy somethings in your belly.  In that moment while you make out with whatever might be your comfort food of choice, you're feeding yourself with extra calories and depleting your mind and body of strength.  Which do you want to last the longest?

Will I never have a chicken nugget again?  Of course I will.  I'm not even going to try and claim innocence there.  But can I try to recognize when I'm confusing a wise food choice with a bad one because of some memory or emotion that will still exist after the sweet and sour sauce has run dry?  Yes, I can.  We all can.  If you're going to make a food choice that you know is high in calories or fat or carbs, make sure you're doing it for the right reasons (that are right reasons to you and only you) and that, afterwards, you're able to own what you did and not beat yourself up over it and allow that moment of "edible bliss" to detour you from the bigger picture.  Some might ask "does that taste as good as skinny feels?" (Which is one saying I've never really cared for, for some reason.)  But my response is that if you've never been skinny, then it sure as hell does taste better!                     

Monday, May 30, 2011

See fat girl. Fat girl .... run?!

The clear winner this past Saturday, besides my valiant efforts to keep my running jacket from creeping up above the flub-line mid-stride or from being so "in the zone" that I did not hear the whistles and voices saying to "stay to your right!" as the half-marathon leader was about to pass me, was bodyglide.  I did not have one millimeter of chafe-ocity on any part of my inner-thigh region.  It was almost as glorious as hearing the man on the stadium loudspeaker say my name as I neared the finish line.  Yes, my thighs are singing the glories to a higher power this weekend thanks to the greatest invention since KitKat bites and central air.  But it's not just my thighs that feel in love with the impossible this weekend.  It was me, too. 

See this past Saturday, I turned my impossible to I'Mpossible.  Some might look at it as turning anthills in to molehills, or lemons in to lemonade .... but I turned my mind in to a believer.  Let's flashback, shall we? ....

Memorial weekend 2010 - My sister in law was going to participate in her first half-marathon.  My mom and I decided "sure, let's go up north that weekend and cheer her on!"  So we did.  We went from cheerpoint to cheerpoint along the course, and it was at the second cheerpoint where I realized "holy cow, look at this.  People are cheering as runners, joggers, walkers pass by.  They don't even know who some of these people are and they're still cheering them on.  That's crazy!  That's fun.  That's inspirational.  Whoa."  Then I experienced the finish-line.  Talk about a double-rainbow experience (see youtube "double rainbow guy").  Later that afternoon we were all sitting around the outdoor pool at our hotel, enjoying the beautiful weather, when I told my sister-in-law "I think I want to do that next year."  I mean those were the words coming out of the mouth of a girl who has NEVER considered running in circles or from point A to point B as anything remotely enjoyable.  Was it a moment of verbal insanity?  Was I secretly speaking for the skinny man across the pool who was already wearing spandex and looked to have no problem with friction between the legs?  Nope, I was speaking for myself.  The girl that was at that time (and for some time after) on the verge of being too big for even the biggest sizes at Lane Bryant.

Well that summer I tried to get myself going physically, and although I started eating better (I had joined WW) and working out, something didn't seem right.  It didn't feel like my journey just yet.  But by December I was physically feeling the worst I've ever felt in my life.  The highest weight I was at (that I was even aware of) was 360 and it doesn't take a genius to realize that rounds up to 400, not 300.  Something had to change.  Enter December 31st.  This 360+ pound lady was making some resolutions.  I signed up for two races - 10K and a half-marathon.  Are you nuts Heather?  I mean somebody take this girl's temperature.  She's clearly not thinking straight.  But I was thinking straight, probably for the first time in a long time.  We've all heard Bob and Jillian mention that the journey can't start until you're ready mentally.  It's true.  I've fought with myself to start losing weight for years.  But you start to contemplate that if you're gonna fight for something, why not fight for what you're worth.

So here we were, this past weekend, 50 pounds lighter since I started my weight loss journey back in February, ready to tackle that first weight loss milestone - the 10K that a year ago I had told myself I would participate in.  The night before the race I was a nervous wreck.  I had gone to pick up my race number etc and while walking through mobs of people I felt so out of place.  Suddenly I was holding conversations in my head that I thought others around me were thinking ... "what's she doing here?  she's too big to run.  I'm doing the same race as this fat girl?  What an insult to a REAL runner."  I walked out of the gymnasium, found a corner, turned my back towards the people coming in and out, and I quietly started to cry.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!?!  I DON'T FIT IN!  Suddenly flashbacks to childhood memories of not fitting in, or just not fitting in to clothes in general, flooded my mind and all my hard work meant nothing because my mind was telling me THIS was impossible.  But I was reminded at that moment (thank you best friend) that "this is your journey."  And it is.  It's mine.  Some incredibly fit runner who can run 6 minute miles doesn't get to control my journey.  I do.

So bring it on - race day.  Cold and drizzle rain to start.  Honestly, I couldn't have cared less.  I felt so calm and ready from the very start all the way through to the moment I crossed the finish line.  I was scared that my body and mind wouldn't cooperate with each other come miles 4.5 and on, but it was actually miles 3 and on that I was in a complete zone.  I felt great.  I wish I could go back to that moment again and bottle up that feeling so I could infuse it in to my veins when I need it in the future.  As I neared the stadium to finish and the amount of cheering and spectators grew, I suddenly realized I deserved this moment just as much as the athletically fit woman who finished 40 minutes ago.  This was my moment.  This is my journey.  I had done a 5K a month ago and I remember seeing the finish line and feeling like I couldn't run any faster if my life depended on it.  However as I approached the finish of my first 10K, my legs and feet felt like that could have continued to run, that they were floating in clouds.

I will never forget that 1:30:15.6 for as long as I live.  To me, it meant progression.  It meant fight.  It meant courage.  It meant love.  It meant believing in myself for the first time in a long, long time.  It meant standing tall for all my "big-boned" sisters who think they can't do something but they can.  It meant standing up to my own fears.  It meant realizing my worth.  It meant taking the impossible and realizing I AM possible.

And I ask .... what are YOU possible of?