Doubts. Replaced. Fears. Erased. After my tibia was fractured last year I had moments of doubt. Being injured is scary. I was doubtful, fearful. Heck, I was hit by a car while walking and my leg was fractured. I underwent surgery (March 3, 2011) to repair it and hardware was placed in my leg to hold the bones together. I had to walk for months on crutches with no weight bearing to my leg. Sure, the doctors said I would regain my quad strength, walk again, and eventually return to all of my normal activities. During the rehab process I kept my spirit high and worked hard, but there was always a little shadow of doubt. Even after I was giving the green light to return to mostly all activities after six months I was still fearful, tentative with my movement. I just didn’t know if my leg would ever be the same again.

Fast forward: One year. Yesterday, I made the ultimate comeback — I was able to walk the beautiful, five-mile hilly Mt.Tabor Park. No crutches. No doubts. No fears. Just me and my girlfriend, Jamie, swinging my arms high and walking proud. It had been a long time coming…You see to take on Mt.Tabor Park again was on my Post-Recovery Wishlist. It was the last thing on my list that I had yet to accomplish. It was the last doubt. Walking in the fresh air, taking in all the beauty of the park and in the backdrop the splendor of Mt. Hood. Ha ha. Whew! I tell you… sweet victory.

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!