Repost: Small things

Often overlooked and less celebrated are small things. Small things are the foundation for big things. Without small things, well, big things can’t happen. Seems to me celebrating the small things en route to the big, ultimate things makes more sense. Why delay the celebration? Big things, are big, and they usually don’t come around as often.

Case in point: Battling obesity is a big thing. But, when you weigh 388 pounds losing a pound is a small thing. I could not, however, have lost 170 pounds without losing the first pound, five pounds, ten pounds, etc. With each pound there was cause for celebration because those first pounds were the foundation.Those first pounds gave me the strength and confidence to go on.

On the flip side: A nonchalant attitude towards small things such as missing a scheduled workout can be damning. It’s just a workout — not! Maintaining a workout routine requires discipline, effort. It’s the attitude, the spirit. Sure, one workout is a small thing, but ultimately weeks, months, years of working out can become a big thing. Y’all with me?

Let us celebrate small things, and let us not take small things for granted. For small things become big things. And, if you are impatient like me big things just take too long.

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!

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