Like Marsha
61 years young: A mother, grandmother — who owns the gym. I tell you, this lady goes hard. She’s fearless. Back-to-back cycling classes. No problem. Body Pump, Pilates, you name it. She’s there.
I’ve been in tons of classes with Marsha over the last couple of years, but when I saw her last week I really took notice of her. She’s been cycling, seriously cycling, and her body looks amazing. She’s slim and toned. She looks fantastic. She says she feels amazing too. Like most mothers, Marsha says for years she put her children and family first and her health was low priority. But, now that her children are grown she is taking care of herself and claiming her good health.
Thanks, Marsha for being my inspiration. When I need that extra umph I gaze up front at Marsha and crank another gear. I want to be like Marsha when I grow up.
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!