Enough
Some days are just better than others. Especially when it comes to working out. There are days when I’m in cycling class and I can’t seem to get my legs to go any faster, when I can’t seem to push myself to go to the next level. If I’m low energy a day here a day there, no biggie. We all sometimes are off of our game. But too many off days and I have to wonder. I have to really ask myself if being at the gym is enough.
I’ve struggled with answering that question for a long time. I mean, sure, I walked through the doors of the gym. I seated myself on the bike and I rode for the entirety of the class. Sometimes throughout the class I matched the instructors intensity becoming uncomfortable and breathless. Sometimes blanking out and thinking of all sorts of other things. But I finished. I was there. Some would say I should give myself some credit for being there. I can appreciate that. I also can’t help but feel that If I want to become stronger, fitter, and lose more weight being there is simply not enough.
Everyone has to determine for themselves if being there is enough. I tuned into to watch The French Open on and off over the last couple of weeks. Playing in a grand slam is as big as it gets for those tennis players. The Women’s Finals was a competitive match with both women playing hard and going for it. Serena Williams was the winner. Best believe she wasn’t just there. She went for it. In the Men’s Finals, however, Jo-Wilifried Tsonga didn’t quite seize his opportunity. He was beaten in straight sets and from my position on the couch it didn’t look like he gave it much of a fight either. Sure, he can say he was there. He can say he played in The French Open Finals and was runner-up. Maybe for him that’s enough. Only he can answer that.
I’m proud of myself for battling obesity publicly and honestly. I do give myself credit for what I’ve achieved. But, I can’t rest on my laurels. I’m playing to not only battle but to beat obesity. I’m playing to win. So, for me being at the gym is just not enough.
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!