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It’s hard

I promise you. You don’t want any part of this. Being fat and out of shape that is. If you haven’t already — then don’t. Don’t come any where near this.

Being fat is hard, really hard. Being fat and trying to lose the weight even harder. Being fat, out of shape, trying to lose the weight, and get fit, brutal.

I’ve taken many of group exercise classes and I have heard just about every motivational pep talk there is. For some reason though during yesterday’s cycling class as my legs felt as if they were going to fall off and I could barely breathe. The instructor’s words “Push through,” really resonated with me.   “You’ll only get stronger if you push through,” he said.

Gosh darn it! He is right. If I want to, if anyone wants to get to the next level, they’ll have to withstand some amount of pain. They’ll have to make some sacrifices. They’ll have to push through. I guess, that’s exactly why I’m still here because pushing through is hard.

Truthfully, I don’t want to eat any healthier than I’m already eating. I don’t want to say goodbye to my signature homemade chocolate chip cookies and lazy Sunday morning breakfasts involving thick sliced pepper bacon. And quite frankly, I don’t want to workout any harder either. It hurts.

So, folks, when you see an overweight, out of shape person and you think to yourself, “Why don’t they just lose weight?” Take it from one of those overweight, out of shape people — it’s hard. It’s hard to say goodbye to all the bad habits and embrace the good ones. Despite the negative stigma that comes along with being fat and the health concerns — losing weight — is hard.

Typically, I’d end with something  motivating and uplifting.  But, there’s nothing motivating and uplifting about these truths: Losing weight is hard. Getting fit is equally as hard. Pushing through is the hardest.

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!