Thursday, November 11, 2010

Small steps...

The last time I would consider myself to be "an athlete" was probably four years ago. I had the luxury of employing a personal trainer and he had the knowledge it took to transform me. He taught me the importance of six small meals, the evils of sugar, and that exercise would always take second chair to diet. In four short months I dropped 50 lbs and lost 10% body fat. I started running. Still slow but fast enough to get high. Three miles a day meant nothing to me. I looked forward to the gym with anticipation even though I knew the second I got there he would be right there kicking my butt again. I loved the thrill of the journey. I could never see my body change. Seems like no matter what condition it is in, it always looks the same to me. But plenty of others noticed and the joys of shopping in a "regular store" took me over! And I could see my physical accomplishments improve weekly. I was getting stronger!

Here I stand years later. I see a "professional" about my diet and she tells me the same things I remember vaguely from my "athlete" days. I had it all along. She turns something in my memory causing me to remember. I have done this before. That means I can do it again.

When I went off to France I was afraid to leave my trainer behind. He assured me I would be ok. I started my mornings with a jog through wheat fields. Five miles now. The scenery was amazing! I can't describe the rush I received from those morning runs. When I came back to our villa I would swim. Laps upon laps. For the first time in years I was comfortable in a swimming suit. My employer's friend who hadn't seen me in months commented that I looked like a new person. I felt like a new person.

Digging through old boxes the other day I cam across the two piece swimsuit that I had purchased specifically for the trip. It looks so small. I started to cry. I felt as though it belonged to a deceased friend. Old and familiar but also as though I may never see the owner again. Inside me I hear a small voice saying "I am still here". I am taking the small steps I took before. I am praying that somehow they lead me back to that place. The one where I am watching the sun rise over grape vineyards, the one where people approach me and don't recognize, the one where I run and I don't stop. I just keep going.
 

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