12 days, 3 weeks, 4 months
Lately, I haven’t been my active self. Truthfully, my eating habits have been a little iffy too. There are plenty of reasons why, but I won’t make excuses. I’ll just say, I’m learning not to measure my health and fitness in the span of days, weeks, or months. I don’t run to the gym for a few weeks and then deem myself fit. I don’t eat well for a month or two and then I’m suddenly healthy. Instead, eating healthy and working out is what I chose to do all the time for the rest of my life. This is a lifestyle change, folks. Some periods of time I’ll be on my “A” game, sometimes I won’t. But, that never, ever means I have fallen off. I will never return to that slothenly way of life that caused me to weigh 388 lbs. I will not let a few days, weeks, or months be indicative of the way I ultimately chose to live my life.
I have publicly announced my bid to be “Fit by Forty” which for me, means I want to be in the best shape of my life when I turn 40 this summer. No doubt, I will work towards this goal, but please note that once I meet that goal there will be another goal. Goals are terrific to have because they can be motivators, but again once I meet each goal I’ll just strive for something more. A healthy, fit lifestyle is just that a lifestyle, it does not have a timeline attached to it. My love for myself, and for a healthier, fitter life, is not fleeting. I want this forever, not 12 days, 3 weeks, or 4 months.
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!