It doesn't
When it comes to working out some days certainly are easier than others. I’ve been working out now on a regularly basis for a couple of years. I think, I’m relatively fit and can hold my own in most workouts.
The other day, I was in cycling class, riding. It was a hard ride – one of those days where it took everything I had to propel my legs around. But, once I’m seated, I ride for the entire class – no matter. Finally, I was at the point of exhaustion. Pure frustration. Labored breathing, sweating, butt throbbing – I screamed out, “When does this get easier?” In a very matter of fact tone, everyone including, Ted the trainer shouted back, “It doesn’t.”
Huh? What? It’s going to be like this always? Forever? Talking about taking the wind out of my sail. For so long, my goal has been to become fit for many reasons. In particular, I thought that once I was fit the workouts would become easier. So that’s why the response of everyone in class “It doesn’t” really rocked my conscious.
I’m a huge professional tennis fan. Serena Williams is my girl. Finesse, grit, and a wicked serve. It dawned on me, as great of a player as she is, as fit as she is. She still becomes fatigued. She still has hard days. I’ve watched her play some incredible matches. I’ve seen the physical, mental strength it took for her to compete. Some days she leaves the court in victory. Other days her victory was simply fighting through it. Okay, sure my workouts are not on this level, but it’s the same principal, the same fortitude.
Here’s what I’ve concluded: It’s not so much that we feel good while we’re doing it. It’s that we feel good because we do it. So we keep doing it. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month…It doesn’t get any easier. It just becomes more a part of our lives. We know what’s at stake if we don’t do it. So we keep doing it. On our own free will. On our own accord.
“It doesn’t get easier. You get stronger.”
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!