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Real example

I’ve been there, done that — am doing that. That’s why most of you can relate to me. I’m not a Biggest Loser contestant on TV being worked by a staff of personal trainers and fed by personal chefs. I’m not an airbrushed Weight Watchers celebrity spokesperson. I’m not a health professional who has all the book smarts, but none of the real gritty insight of battling obesity and life at the same time. I’m your real example.

I’m the gal at the gym working out along side you. I speak to you and with you at community events. I host fun, informational, cooking classes locally. If you see me at the grocery store I’ll chat with you. If you shoot me an email I’ll respond. I’m here, there, everywhere. I’m accessible. I’m your real example.

Real example: I met Judy at my cookbook signing at New Seasons Market last week. She reads my blog in print in The Columbian. After reading my blog posts for a few weeks she came to my cookbook signing all jazzed up to meet me. We had a nice conversation at the cookbook signing. About a week later, I ran into Judy while I was out picking up a few grocery items. I stopped and chatted with her. She was so excited to see me again and was impressed that I remembered her — though I did admit at the time I couldn’t recall her name. Judy told me that she loves reading my blog: Admires how honest, open I am. She really feels connected with me and can relate to me. She said, I am a real example, a real inspiration.

I am honored, grateful, and lucky to be your real example.

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Chrisetta Mosley

Chrisetta Mosley

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!