Healthy and sick
I pride myself on working out, eating whole fresh foods, and resting — the key ingredients to health.
Such as life, there are periods were my habits are better, more consistent than others. The last few weeks, I found myself really dialed in on all areas. I was feeling really good everything was going swell. Working out hard with my new training team, Northwest Personal Training, really mindful of my food choices, and proper rest every night. I even made sure to take a day off from exercising mid-week. Being extra-cautious not to burn myself out.
I was on a roll. The blog’s readership hit 25,000, working on a real huge project, cookbook signing at Clark College, and coordinating the FRESH viewing at the library.
Then out of nowhere…Bitten by the flu bug. Bitten hard by the flu bug. It’s been awful. Not only the physical discomforts: Body aches, chills, coughing, fever, and loss of appetite. There’s something about being sick that makes me feel so vulnerable. So weak.
I’ve been sidelined for the past two weeks. No interest in blogging, food, or much of anything. I’m slowly regaining my strength and my smile is back too. Being sick has surely made me appreciate my good health all the more. Even the healthiest people get sick sometimes.
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!