Three weeks difference
This actually happened a few weeks ago right before I came down with the flu. A must share…
I was having a bad day. A really bad day. The last few days, my mind had been full of the negative self-talk combined with self-doubt. I’d been working out hard for weeks and eating clean as I possibly could. I was really questioning myself, my efforts. Maybe this is it for me. Maybe this is goal weight and I just need to face it. Maybe there is no Next Level, Fit by Forty.
I lost five pounds the first week I started training with Northwest Personal Training, but then the scale was fluctuating and not necessarily in my favor. I looked in the mirror and wanted to smash it out of pure disgust. Especially, the studio mirrors. My goodness!
On this particular day I really, really didn’t like what I saw. Sorry. I know, I’m supposed to be your positive role model, your real example. I’d be remiss though not to share my true feelings. I’ve said this umpteen times it’s more than a battle of obesity it’s a battle of self. Day in, day out.
Any of you who have met me, know how dramatic and animated I am. Well, if Kara, (Fitness Director at NWPT) didn’t know this about me — she knows now. I ran into her outside the studio that day as we both were headed to our cars. Poor Kara, I went on a tirade about how this wasn’t working out. How I didn’t think I could do it anymore. How I’m sick of being the fattest person in the room. Blah, blah…Kara entertained my crazy and let me get it all out. With a very straight, but warm face, she asked: “How long have you been working out with us?”
Me: “Three weeks.”
Kara: “Oh, three weeks?”
When she repeated out loud “three weeks” I just started laughing. It sounded so ridiculous. I had been working out consistently and eating clean for three weeks. Three whole weeks. Sometimes I too lose sight of how much it really takes to shed the pounds. More importantly, to be fit, to be healthy. Three weeks is not enough time to see the type of results I’m looking for. Deep down, I know better than that, but still sometimes I get caught up. I’m no different, in that respect, I want it now.
Kara went on to say, “Chrisetta, most people would give up. You though, you keep coming. You keep trying. We’re glad you’re here, trying.” She’s absolutely right. Sure, sometimes I let the negative self-talk get the best of me, and I‘m a little unrealistic about where I should be. The difference is, no matter — I keep suiting up, I keep trying.
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!