Yep. I am prepared to officially call myself a jogger, and I will tell you why.
About 7 years ago, I was fat. And for the first time, I am also prepared to own that title. I peaked at about 200 pounds of fluffiness. On a 5'2" frame, that's fat. My mother, God love her, used to respond to my question "Do you think I'm fat?" with, "Well..... I mean, you're overweight for sure, but I wouldn't call you fat."
Thanks mom.
My ex-husband used to tell me, frequently, "I love your body. You're perfect the way you are."
Thanks honey. Hence the divorce.
I was oblivious. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted, as much as I wanted, often. And I called myself: chunky. "I'm a little teapot," I would say, and if you look at pictures of me back then, I really, really resembled one.
Finally, at the age of 25, in more ways than one, the world open up to me, which led to my eyes opening up to the world, and I realized that I, the girl who used to be able to outrun even the boys in school, who used to play softball, and play it hard, could not even climb the four flights of stairs in my apartment building without my back hurting and my lungs aching.
Thanks ice cream, and Doritos, and seconds of dinner, and thirds of dinner.
I wanted my body to work for me again. It was much more about that than about some body image I had. Heck, I thought I was a cute chunky butt. I was! But my body didn't work for me anymore.
My journey began with being more active again, but not really watching what I ate, and I dropped 20 pounds right away, and kept it off for good.
A couple of years later, I was hovering around 170, and I joined Weight Watchers, which was a revolutionary approach to weight loss to me, a girl who had never dieted: Be active and practice portion control. Essentially, that was it.
It also helped that by this time I had met and married Carlos, the most supportive and inspirational person I have ever met who, instead of telling me that I was perfect, would say, "If you're unhappy with being overweight, do something about it." Hmmmm.... what a concept.
Thanks honey. No, really. Thank you.
Now, here I am, 3 years from that point, having lost, in total, over 60 pounds, and officially prepared to call myself a jogger.
This was a long, hard road, filled with setbacks and obstacles. But in the end, I was and am driven by the need to make this amazing machine that I have been given to work with, my body, do its best, perform to the best of its ability, and give me the hundred years of life that my great-grandmother is reaching toward now.
This morning, I sat watching Rachel Maddow after breakfast, finishing off my coffee and thinking of all the reasons why I didn't really need to get out and jog today. Then, my body took over and reminded me that I don't jog because I need to.
I jog an hour a day, most days of the week, because finally, after all this hard work, after months of forcing myself to get out, after years of intermittently dragging myself through walks, hikes, bike rides and yoga poses, years after this all began, jogging just feels great.
Yep. I'm a jogger.
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