A few days ago I walked my first 5k.
I repeat, a few days ago I walked a 5k.
Still over 300 lbs, me.
Still in pain from nerve damage in my feet, me.
Still fat, plus sized and jiggly me.
Still scared that I might get made fun of or fail, me.
Still huffs and puffs even though I’m killing workouts 6 days a week, me.
I, signed up for…and actually finished a 5k. It took me just over 1 hour. H
I still almost don’t believe it.
Last July on my birthday, if you would have told the almost 50 pounds heavier and 100% more miserable me…that within 6 months my life would be different and I would have accomplished my first 5k, I would have laughed in your face!
My first day in the gym back in August was an alarming eye opener as to how really out of shape I was! I barely did 15 minutes on the treadmill at a speed of 2.0 and went strait to the bathroom and burst into tears. I called my husband at work, crying and humiliated. Overwhelmed at the long and grueling road I had ahead of me. Unsure if I was really going to be able to do this everyday.
The pain was sharp and unrelenting. My feet were swollen. My body was heavy and not used to being pushed beyond what I was able to do everyday to run my household. It was like staring up at the Empire State Building and knowing I had to get to the top by climbing the stairs. Who wouldn’t want to turn around and bolt?!
Everyday after I had to MAKE myself drive over to that gym and climb on the treadmill.
Even though it hurt.
Even though I hated it.
Even though I felt stupid.
I told myself that if my husband had to make himself get up and go to work everyday, I had to get up and make myself come here, THIS would be job right now. Since I couldn’t yet do it for myself, I did it for him.
Knowing it was a sacrifice for our family to rely on his income only so that I could dedicate myself to getting healthy, I made myself go. I did not want to waste the gift he had given me in believing in me.
So, I made myself walk.
I made myself do an extra minute here and there until eventually I was able to stay on for 30 min.
I made myself do it everyday.
Then I made myself do what the trainer asked me to do. I totally submitted myself to her authority and would not allow myself to not at least try and do the things she told me to.
Even when it hurt.
Even if I felt like a wiener.
Even when I’d catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror to see that my belly was showing doing the ball slams, and I wanted to die from disgust and shame. I’d pull down my shirt and make myself keep going, even though all I wanted to do was grab my keys and speed away in my truck, and never look back.
Those first two months were brutal.
Sometimes it’s still brutal.
Sometimes I still catch glimpses of myself and am bummed that more progress and hard work isn’t visible.
And sometimes I complete 5k’s and feel like I own the world.
Sometimes I amaze myself by the workouts that I’m able to do know.
The endurance I’ve built.
The weight I can lift.
The distances I can go.
Sometimes I’m amazed at how bad I want to be in the gym everyday day now!
How excited I am to push myself.
How amazing it feels to make my family proud.
How amazing it feels to make myself proud.
I’ve always wanted to do a 5k and I never did.
I was afraid.
Well now I can say I’ve DONE one.
One goal reached and many more to come. Im not where I want to be yet but I’m well on my way, because I’m not afraid anymore. And as cliche as it sounds…if I can do this, quite LITERALLY anyone can do this.