Fight or Flight
Love, love, love what I do. I’ve become pretty active in the community sharing my story and helping others: Cooking classes, cookbook, speaking events, and blogging. As a result, folks are starting to take notice of me. Awesome.
Recently, I was asked by a very reputable organization to work on a huge project. My first response was oh, my goodness. Yes! I was buzzing off the walls. Then about three days after the offer I became frantic. Scared. Nervous. Doubtful. My girlfriend reminded me, the first time we take on any project there are bound to be fears, doubt. It’s the first time. There are so many unknowns. Besides, this is a really big opportunity. I should be nervous. I have lots of work to do.
Game on. Last night, I packed up my materials and went to the library and I’m so glad I did. The visit to the library was just what I needed. I was able to work in a different space, a new environment. After spending hours researching and thumbing through countless books. I have a solid outline and clarity about the direction I plan to go in. I guess, we need the fear factor to kick in to bring out our best.
By the way, I love the public library. It totally rocks! While I’m working on this project, No doubt I’ll spend lots of time there researching, writing, and hanging out
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!