January 13, 2013 - A Year Ago Today
A year ago today, I weighed 313 pounds. A year ago today was going to be the day that I really started working on losing weight once and for all. A year ago today I was going to work at becoming the woman I wanted to be at 40. A year ago today my father turned 60 years old.
Two weeks flew by and I got the phone call I knew deep down was coming, the one I was dreading. Even though I'd anticipated it, the preparation didn't block the tears. Even though I'd known it in my heart, it still hurt. My father had called to tell me the cancer was back and that there was nothing they could do for him. My father had called to tell me he was terminal. Death was imminent.
For almost three months, I did nothing toward my weight loss goals. I didn't gain anything, but I didn't really work on losing anything either. I didn't know what to do. You never know what to do. I was facing the fast approaching demise of my biological father. Steven, the man who never lived up to my expectations. The man whose love I had wanted the most. The man I had called Daddy. For those three months, I let my mind go all over the place. I resolved to just accept him for who he was, where he was at, finally. I knew that nothing was going to change at that point and I wasn't going to try to make it change. I was going to let him meet Death in peace. I wasn't going to get in what I could at the end.
Two weeks after I came home from seeing him for the last time, I thought. I thought and thought and thought. The conclusion I met was that life is a gift and not a guarantee. I had put off so much living, waiting till the day the weight somehow magically came off to be able to do the things I wanted to do. I started running fat. I started moving at over 300 pounds. I started literally moving toward my goals.
Last year I got down to 261.5 pounds. This morning I weighed 281.5 pounds. I have kept off 32.5 pounds. Today, I am going to get back on the horse. I have a gym membership. I have a supportive husband. I have the tools and knowledge I need. This year, I want to get off another 52.5 pounds and keep that off, if not losing an extra 20 as opposed to finding it again.
I'm not doing this for my father. Not my biological or earthly father, anyway. I am doing this because my Heavenly Father has given me a gift that is this life I am living. I should be ashamed to waste a single day not living it.
The other day, an old friend shared with me that a high school classmate had passed. She was a beautiful woman with whom I'd had art and German classes. I'd admired her beauty and creativity and it saddened me to hear that she hadn't made it to her 40th birthday.
Life is so precious. It's not guaranteed. Time is a present, life is a gift. It doesn't matter how careful you are with it, you only get one and you only get the portion you're given. Make it the most you can. Make it the most today.
Two weeks flew by and I got the phone call I knew deep down was coming, the one I was dreading. Even though I'd anticipated it, the preparation didn't block the tears. Even though I'd known it in my heart, it still hurt. My father had called to tell me the cancer was back and that there was nothing they could do for him. My father had called to tell me he was terminal. Death was imminent.
For almost three months, I did nothing toward my weight loss goals. I didn't gain anything, but I didn't really work on losing anything either. I didn't know what to do. You never know what to do. I was facing the fast approaching demise of my biological father. Steven, the man who never lived up to my expectations. The man whose love I had wanted the most. The man I had called Daddy. For those three months, I let my mind go all over the place. I resolved to just accept him for who he was, where he was at, finally. I knew that nothing was going to change at that point and I wasn't going to try to make it change. I was going to let him meet Death in peace. I wasn't going to get in what I could at the end.
Two weeks after I came home from seeing him for the last time, I thought. I thought and thought and thought. The conclusion I met was that life is a gift and not a guarantee. I had put off so much living, waiting till the day the weight somehow magically came off to be able to do the things I wanted to do. I started running fat. I started moving at over 300 pounds. I started literally moving toward my goals.
Last year I got down to 261.5 pounds. This morning I weighed 281.5 pounds. I have kept off 32.5 pounds. Today, I am going to get back on the horse. I have a gym membership. I have a supportive husband. I have the tools and knowledge I need. This year, I want to get off another 52.5 pounds and keep that off, if not losing an extra 20 as opposed to finding it again.
I'm not doing this for my father. Not my biological or earthly father, anyway. I am doing this because my Heavenly Father has given me a gift that is this life I am living. I should be ashamed to waste a single day not living it.
The other day, an old friend shared with me that a high school classmate had passed. She was a beautiful woman with whom I'd had art and German classes. I'd admired her beauty and creativity and it saddened me to hear that she hadn't made it to her 40th birthday.
Life is so precious. It's not guaranteed. Time is a present, life is a gift. It doesn't matter how careful you are with it, you only get one and you only get the portion you're given. Make it the most you can. Make it the most today.
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