I hate to admit this — only three days into February and five weeks into the new year and my tank seems to be on empty. I’ve been trying to rev up my energy level, but everything I’ve tried including working out has not helped. Not sure, what’s going on. I am so excited about all my upcoming events. Perhaps, I’m overwhelmed by it all. Being a one-woman show means I do all the networking, follow-up, scheduling, marketing, and then there’s showing up to the actual event. In between time, I’m on a mission to become Fit by Forty. And,let’s not forget about all my other normal day-to-day activities. Heavy, heavy sigh. Suddenly, Fabulous February seems more like Frantic February. I’m running on fumes. I’m running on empty.
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures...
Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!