I'm preparing myself for the hospital tomorrow. I have to get a shower with antibacterial soap both tonight, as well as in the morning before we leave. The nurse said I can't put anything on my body like lotions, perfumes, deodorant, etc. I can't wear any jewelry either, just my birthday suit. That's okay, it's more comfortable anyway. I did have the thought yesterday that I'd like to keep my wedding ring on. That was an odd thought. I take it off for other reasons and never have a problem, like when we go to the pool, or to the gym, or cleaning house. Something about having it on made me feel a sense of comfort. I guess maybe it's the feeling that somehow Arie would be in the room with me, instead of me being surrounded by strangers. Well, home it will stay.
I received a call from the hospital to inform me to arrive at 5 am for my surgery. Even though I've been preparing myself for this moment, it still opened up a wave of emotion. I suddenly felt the urge to cry. It's not that I'm trying to be stoic. I've sort of approached this bilateral mastectomy from a "taking care of business" mentality. I still feel that way, although now I'm thinking about what it means to be a woman. I'm going to explore this idea further as I go through this process. I don't feel empty about the thought of losing my breasts, but I suspect I will feel scarred. Isn't that okay though, to see the scars of the events of your life and be reminded of your humanity? There is a song that says, "Heal the wounds, but leave the scar - a reminder of how merciful You are." Some scars we choose, some are inflicted upon us, but either way we are reminded that we survived.
I asked my son Koen if he had any questions or concerns. He wanted to know if my chest will be completely flat when he sees me again. We agreed that he will have to give me a really big hug before my surgery since he will only be able to hug my head for awhile afterward. I won't be able to lift more than a milk jug, much less receive bear hugs. It'll be nice to get hugs and sugars going in.
We watched a movie after dinner, "The Mighty Ducks". Hm. I wonder what parallels can be drawn there? I'll think on that more later as well. Arie and I shut the lights off and walked toward the bedroom with our arms around each other. He asked me if I was feeling scared. Hesitantly, I said no. I'm not scared, just full of contemplations of which ways my life will change after tomorrow. He said, "Have you looked in the mirror and . . ."? I gave him an ending for his thought, ". . . and said goodbye to my girls?" We both had a good laugh and he said that maybe if we spend time laughing about it, it will make the whole thing easier to deal with. I was thankful for those few moments of levity with my husband. He's mostly quietly supportive and strong.
It's important to me to document this experience. Some day it may make a difference to another who would read it. I'll write more as time permits and inspiration befalls me. For now it's off to the shower and to bed for about five hours sleep before the alarm goes off and the adventure begins.
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I was just walking to my room to go to bed, turning up a cold bottle of water and contemplating the "don't have anything to drink after midnight" surgery rule. I tend to act out a little defiantly when it comes to that rule. I'll grab that bottle of water and in an act of almost rebelliousness, guzzle the whole thing! Of course, the clock only reads 11:59 pm when I'm done! LOL I just can't seem to be a true rebel. Anyway, I digress.
I was about to lay down when it occurred to me that this is my last night with these boobs. Wow! I thought for a moment that maybe I'm not doing them justice. The least I could do is pull an all-nighter and "roast" myself! LOL We've been through a lot together! I thought maybe I should feel a little more like I do the night before a big trip or the night before I sing. You know, I should be experiencing a heightened sense of "who could sleep at a time like this"? On second thought, I'm really ready to call it a night. I'm so 38 . . . rolling up the carpet at 10:46 pm!
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer about 10 years ago at age 51. She is a survivor. Her sister was diagnosed with the same cancer at 36 years-old, survived, and now has terminal ovarian cancer. Their mother died from breast and ovarian cancer at 46 years-old. Her brother died from pancreatic cancer when he was 42.
To say that my family has been touched by cancer is an understatement. I was about 14 when I had my first encounter with this disease. I recall sitting in my uncle's living room, shocked at his gaunt figure. Everyone was standing around making idle chit-chat. Eventually, all those in attendance withdrew from the living room where Uncle Boyd was in his recliner. They made their way to another room to partake of the smorgasbord of pot luck dishes all the adults had brought. The whole event seemed surreal to me. I couldn't understand why everyone was acting like nothing was happening. There was a proverbial white elephant in the room and they all seemed to ignore it. I was confused by the obvious avoidance of the subject of his pending death.
I sat down on the sofa next to his chair. I'd like to say I remember everything we said to each other, but I can't. What I do vividly recall is asking him if he was scared. I'd never met anyone who knew they were dying. I couldn't imagine what that must be like, but I figured he'd probably like to talk about it. I hope I was right. We spoke very easily and bluntly. He died a short time later.
After Uncle Boyd died and I slowly became aware of our family history of cancer, I began to develop an odd sense of resignation that I too would someday be struck with this horrible disease. I've always thought it was a matter of when, not if. Those who know me know that I am not a pessimistic person by any stretch of the imagination. My glass is always have full. I just figured that we all have to die and this would be my highly likely path.
Sometime in early adulthood I received a letter from my mom with information about the BRCA1 gene mutation. The BRCA1 gene is responsible for tumor suppression. My aunt (her sister) had had the testing done to determine exactly which mutation of the gene she carried. I tucked it safely away in a file, knowing someday I would need to act on that information and get tested. I don't recall what prompted me to pursue testing, but in 2004 I asked my doctor to perform the test, which unsurprisingly came back positive. At that time, I learned of a study at the National Institute of Health in Washington, D.C., that was following BRCA1 positive women and trying to develop additional early cancer screening techniques. As a member of the study, I participated in a variety of testing, including: CA-125 (tumor marker), mammogram, breast MRI, and breast ductal lavage (a very unpleasant test). During this time I also underwent genetic counseling. I was told I needed to consider having my ovaries out and having a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy by the time I turned 40 years old . . . I recently turned 38. This has been echoed by numerous other doctors, as well as members of my family.
So here I am, armed with the knowledge that if I do nothing, I have about a 60% risk of being struck with breast cancer, not to mention the significantly increased risk of ovarian cancer. Therefore, after serious consideration, consultation, and prayer, I have decided to have a prophylactic mastectomy. My goal is not to be a cancer survivor, but to avoid having it altogether and live a full, long life with my family. My surgery is scheduled for June 17th, 2010. Although I don't look forward to this, I am completely at peace with my decision and feel as if a weight has been lifted from me. I will chronicle my experiences throughout. Like I've told my son so many times, it is what it is. I've encouraged him to face difficult decisions head-on and to do hard things . . . and so shall I!
While standing face-to-face, looking into the eyes of my loving husband, I quickly popped a dark chocolate into my mouth. With a surprised look on his face, he went into interrogation mode. "Where is it, honey? I need my antioxidants too!" I tried to feign ignorance as he began combing through the pantry in search of his treasure. Stepping away from the pantry, I turned to see him holding a bag of Pepperidge Farm Deli Flats hostage. He gave me a semi flat look and said, "Tell me where they are or the deli flats get it!" I responded sternly that I was not going to find dark chocolate wrappers all over his desk. "I'm rationing them," I said, "and if you step out of the kitchen, I'll get you one." At that point, he mildly gave up and stepped into the garage. I grabbed a piece of the coveted dark chocolate and trotted to the garage. He said thanks as I tossed it to him.
At this point, let me say that the dark chocolates of which I speak are the Dove variety. Specifically, the Dove Silky Smooth Dark Chocolate Promises. Each wrapper contains what is supposed to be an inspiring message.
My husband joyfully opened his wrapper and partook of his prized chocolate. I asked, "What did your wrapper say?" My husband, being the ever witty person he is, looked at the wrapper and said, "Your wife is the devil. How did THAT get in there?" I shot him a shocked, playful look and said, "Okay, what does it really say?" He replied that the real quote was, "Accentuate the positive." I smiled and said sweetly, "Would you like to rephrase your comment?" He didn't skip a beat when he replied, "Your wife is the devil, but she has pink horns?" I about died of laughter at that moment! I love my husband!
It got me to thinking. What am I doing to accentuate the positive in my life? Am I surrounding myself with positive people? Am I creating opportunities for positive interactions with my family, friends, neighbors, and other members of my community? What AM I doing that is purposefully positive?
For starters, I am giving myself permission to take the time to write. It allows me to indulge the creative side of me. Taking the time to nourish myself in that way puts me in the right frame of mind when giving the rest of my time to my family or other endeavors. If I don't take that time for my own peace of mind, then I'm doing a disservice for my family and myself.
I'm also making the time for exercise. It's a challenge for us all. Working around work and/or school schedules and the plethora responsibilities we all seem to have can be daunting. We can come up with endless excuses for why we aren't taking that time, but in the end it's a choice.
Meal thinking is another area for which I'm making time. Why didn't I say meal planning? Planning sounds like it takes SO much time. I think people tend to shy away from meal planning because the mere term intimidates them. We think we just don't have time for that kind of thing and that we must be super organized people to accomplish the task. In truth, it's more important to do "meal thinking". I spend time thinking about the impact my meal is going to have on my body, my plan. I find that if I consider the consequences of having that chicken fried steak or that plate of fried catfish, I'm more likely to choose a healthier option. So, I think about my meals and consider what I need to eat to balance my nutritional intake. It's not hard to remember that I haven't eaten a fruit or vegetable all day, unless of course I'm trying to avoid considering that while I'm pulling my ice cream out of the freezer. My meals turn out more balanced as a result of thinking about what my body's needs are...NOT just what I'm in the mood to taste.
I could go on to list other areas where I'm practicing purposeful positivity. To be honest, there are certainly areas where I'm lacking, but I have to start somewhere. It feels great to be on the road to great health, but I can't become complacent. After all, well begun is half done.
What are you doing to accentuate the positive in your life? I'd love to hear about it.
My oldest son is about to turn ten years-old. Sometimes I can't believe this much time has passed. This is a sentiment echoed by parents around the world everyday. His childhood is more than half over. There is only a little time left to instill in him the morals and values that will carry him through life. Have I done enough to impact the person he will become in a positive way?
Today is not the first day I've had this thought. In fact, it's regularly on my mind. Amazingly, it happens on a regular basis that shortly after this thought, I have a moment with my son that gives me a glimmer of who he is and will become. Sometimes I wonder if it's him responding to my sentimentality or if it's God's way of setting my mind at ease. Perhaps it's a little of both.
Family time is an important part of every day and so is one-on-one time. Part of my quality time with Koen has always been snuggling at the end of the day. He loves this time as much as I do and looks forward to it every night. He makes it a priority and is always prepared for me. He climbs in his bed and clears stuffed animals from the other side of the bed so that I will have a place beside him. We use this time to talk about the day's events and reconnect our hearts and minds. We talk about what tomorrow will bring and how we can make it a good day. It's one of the most refreshing parts of my day.
On one such evening, we were talking about how someday I will go back to work. (This won't happen until the kids are no longer needing me on a daily basis.) Interestingly, Koen used to think I didn't work because I didn't know how to. Those were his words and boy did they shock me. We had an immediate discussion regarding Mama's previous work history. LOL We talked about the importance of each of the roles that Daddy and I play. I acknowledged how vital it is to provide for the family financially and how it is equally important to be available for the children. (Parents are too often not available for their kids, either physically, emotionally, or spiritually.) In our family, Daddy is the one who works and Mama is the one who is there minute-by-minute for the kids. Koen knows this is the specific choice Daddy and I made because we agreed it was important for our family. This is an over-simplification of our discussion, but that could encompass a whole book, and has.
Koen has long been a budding philosopher and routinely suggests solutions to the world's problems. The words that came out of his mouth on this night made me pause. He said, "I have an idea, Mama. Why can't each parent take turns every other day, going to work . . ." In my mind - the one that used to think of my husband's job as more important than my own because his earned money, I thought my son was saying how it would be great if each parent had an opportunity to go to work and make money to feel like an important, contributing part of the family. The words that followed from the mouth of this babe left me nearly speechless with a growing smile spreading across my face. Koen then said, ". . . that way each parent would get to have time with their kids." Does he have the right idea or what?
So many parents that stay home feel they are sacrificing something to stay home. According to my 9 year-old son, the ones who are sacrificing are the ones going to work and missing time with their kids! What a refreshing way of looking at it. Suddenly, I felt more blessed than ever before! To think that I ever bought into the notion that I was making a sacrifice by staying home with my kids is now incredibly ridiculous. The guilt behind not bringing any money into the household is years behind me now. This night was a reminder that I have the greatest job in the world . . . with dividends more important than any 401k . . . helping my children grow into the wonderful adults they will become. I'm seeing it everyday now and the payout is HUGE!
"I Never Expected to Inspire Others" Weight Loss Led to a Meaningful Moment with My Son -- By Audri, SparkPeople Member
One day my soul woke up and it was fat! It didn't happen overnight; I wasn't always fat. I had spent the last 11 years eating emotionally. It started with my husband's death. We had been newlyweds. Emotional eating stayed with me long after my wounds began to heal and even after I remarried. It had become a habit. And even though I knew I was hurting myself, I felt powerless to overcome it. Food had control over my life for years, but finally, I decided to live differently. From somewhere came a glimmer of hope that my life could be different.
Then SparkPeople showed up with a soft knock and an invitation: "Can Audri come out and play?" This began a journey of self-discovery I never could have imagined. You see, I didn't realize that year after year, my personality and my future were slowly being buried under a growing layer of fat!
SparkPeople helped me realize for the first time that to be successful I had to make some serious changes. It wasn't enough to make a New Year's resolution and hope for the best. I had to commit to being different…but first I had to believe it was possible. So I started with what I knew to be true. I knew I had not always been fat. I knew others had overcome even greater weight obstacles than mine. Mostly, I knew that through my faith, I could do anything. After acknowledging these things, I felt prepared to commit to whatever it took to conquer myself. Within a week, I came up with the four strategies I would use to set myself up for success.
First, I assessed my battle with food in an honest way. My "If they don't see me eat it, it doesn't count" attitude had to go! Using the Nutrition Tracker, I took a close look at my food choices and it opened my eyes! Over time, I chose to eliminate caffeine, table salt, alcohol, sodas and excessively high fat, high-calorie foods from my diet. Some were harder to let go than others were, but one by one they fell by the wayside in exchange for healthier options.
Second, I stopped hiding my struggle. Those who loved me had known all along anyway—my size 18 wasn't a good disguise. I was only fooling myself. I realized I had fallen into a habit of secretly losing a little weight with the hope that others would notice. When they didn't, I became discouraged and eventually quit. I decided to try a different approach and bring God, my family and friends into the program with me. This way, I was encouraged and held accountable. Eventually, I joined a SparkTeam and even started one of my own.
Third, I set my goals. I set concrete short, medium and long-term goals based on my interests. Some I knew were attainable, like doing cardio four days each week. Some were a stretch, like climbing Mt. Fuji someday—something that would take a lot of hard work to reach. I needed to have something on the horizon to aim at, a target. It was important for it to be realistic enough that I could focus on it instead of my overall weight loss goal. If I had begun by focusing on losing the whole 70 pounds, I would have become overwhelmed and possibly given up.
Fourth, I put a concrete plan in motion to help me succeed. I wrote out my plan on my SparkPage to keep myself accountable. This included making my Nutrition and Fitness Trackers public so others could see what I was tracking. I devoted myself to following my plan, even on the days when I wanted to quit. I determined there were only two choices: to quit or continue. And quitting wasn't an option.
Along the way, a funny thing happened. I found me! Each honest step I took loosened the control food had over me. Once I began to see the fruits of my labor, I realized that I could have done it all along. I had been making excuses and giving away my freedom to choose a better life. Through overcoming the old me, I realized that my personality had been stifled. I wasn't energetic enough to be on the outside the person I was on the inside. Now, I have a zeal that was lost for years. I am alive! I've even tackled new physical challenges and along the way come to think of myself as an athlete. In August, I climbed to the top of Mt. Fuji. And in November, my whole family decided to run the Marine Corps-sponsored Toys for Tots 5K on Yokosuka Naval Base. I'll never forget what happened between my son and me that day.
The horn blew and we started at a good clip, with my young son jogging easily and setting a good pace. It wasn't long before he was ready to slow down a little, and not long after that, he was ready to quit altogether. He had brought a lime green bandanna to wear around his neck but had taken it off. As he was about to give up, I took the bandanna from him and grasped one end tightly. Handing him the other end, I said, "Come on, I won't let go. We can do it together every step of the way." I wanted so desperately for him to overcome all that held him back and simply persevere to the end.
I spoke to him of children who would benefit from what we were doing and of those who walk more than five kilometers just to get a drink of dirty water. We spoke of climbing Mt. Fuji and other challenges that life still holds ahead of us. I pulled and pushed him. I cheered for him. I empathized with him. I shared bits and pieces of life wisdom with him. This was not the first time I had told him that I believe in him, that "You can do it!" Even still, today was different. Today was that opportunity for him to rise above something bigger than he was, and not just to call himself a conqueror, but also to feel it in his spirit.
During the last leg, as we could see the finish line, I was giving him a pep talk. I wish I could recall the exact words I said to him at that moment, but I'll never forget his response: "Yeah, just like YOU believe in me." At that moment, my heart swelled with love and hope. Hope that he will embrace those words and grow to be a confident man who does not fear life's challenges. He confirmed that he does truly listen to me and believes me when I tell him, "I believe in you."
As we neared the finish line, he told me he was ready to sprint. He let go of the green bandanna we had carried together for the last 3 miles and we sprinted together to the finish line. During the whole race, he never stopped moving forward—not once. He had ups and downs, but he never quit. And as we crossed that finish line side-by-side, he became a little more of the adult I will someday know him to be.
After grabbing some water and finding my husband, we stood together to listen to the race results. My softhearted 8-year-old son said to me, "That was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm glad I did it." In that moment, I learned the most beautiful truth: Today he came to believe in himself, like SparkPeople helped me believe in myself. This would have never happened had I not wrestled with my food and exercise demon and come out victorious, believing in myself. This moment was made possible by SparkPeople and one life changed—no, make that two.
I realized that perhaps the greatest consequence of my weight loss (60 pounds to date) is that I have the ability to help others in a meaningful way. I never thought I would see the day when others would call me an inspiration. Living as a fat person enabled me to relate better to the struggles of others. I guess those 11 "fat" years weren't completely wasted after all.
Last night I headed to the gym anxious to get back to running. It was going to be the first time doing a run since I delivered the twins in July. I needed to see where I was starting from so I would know how far I have to go in order to be ready for a 12 mile run on January 1st. That's my next lofty goal - to run from Yokohama to Yokosuka.
I've nursed a groin injury since the last trimester of my pregnancy, so I knew I would be starting slow. Additionally, I'm carrying much more weight than I was when I was running an 8 minute mile before my pregnancy. In fact, I'm carrying almost 40 pounds more.
I'm telling all of this to make a record of where I was when this process began. I am going to do something considered taboo in our society. Yes, I'm going to publicly state my weight. I know. I'm a woman and women aren't supposed to do that - ever - right? Well, I'm a firm believer that a person cannot heal from anything they can't say out loud. Saying it out loud breaks it's power over you, no matter what it is. I weigh 186 pounds. That number suddenly looks really large to me.
Furthermore, this is what I learned at the gym. My groin is still sore, but it's not terrible. My first go round on the treadmill yielded disappointment for me. I wound up running a mile in 15:22. Wow, that certainly is not where I was at pre-pregnancy, but we all have to start somewhere!
Now that I know where I'm at, I have some goals to shoot for. I'm going to focus on lowering my run time for the mile incrementally. I'm going to start working for speed and continue until mid-November. At that time, I'll begin working on distance. Assuming my groin injury continues to heal, I don't think January 1st is unrealistic for my 12 mile run. Once that is under my belt, I'll be focusing on training for the Marine Corps Marathon in November.
My muscles are super sore from weight training two days ago. YES! It lets me know I'm alive and making forward progress! I'm definitely not Superwoman and I've never been a runner, but no one is going to lose this weight for me. So tomorrow, whether I feel like it or not, I'll be planting myself in my livingroom, weights and stability ball on hand. I'll take another step forward and give it all I've got!
Yesterday, I mapped my nutrition for the whole day before ever taking a bite. I found myself short on protein in my meal planning for the day, so I made some adjustments that included eating a boiled egg as a part of my evening snack. When the evening came, I announced to my husband that I was headed to the kitchen to eat a boiled egg for a snack. My husband, who is notorious for his evening snacks of Ben & Jerry's, chips, nachos, pie, and the like, could only say, "That's really weird." I said I guess that WOULD seem weird if you think of eating in any terms other than fueling your body.
I had a growth moment, an epiphany! Did those words really come out of MY mouth? I realized I've completely changed the way I think about food. For more than 30 years, eating was all about what I was "in the mood" for. How often have I said those words, "What are you in the mood to have for dinner?" I didn't realize I was going about it all the wrong way. The question all along should have been, "What does my body need that I haven't given it enough of today?"
Fast forward . . . my husband called me today after his workout and said in spite of his consistent weekly fitness routine, he is not seeing any progress in his run and is feeling sluggish during his workouts. Voila, the opportunity for an inroad! I asked if it could be a combination of low water consumption and a lack of appropriate levels of carbs and protein. He acknowledged as much and I began to see a glimmer of hope. Maybe his thinking is going to shift now as he takes steps to boost his performance.
We all have goals, some spoken, some not. What I have ultimately come to realize is that I'm not going to get where I'm wanting to go if I'm not paying attention to how I'm fueling my body. Food . . . it's like the fuel in my car . . . I have to pay attention to keep the tank from running dry so that it gets me where I need to go!
One day while I was listening to music in my livingroom, my son walked in. The song, "You just get better all the time," came on. My loving son smiled at me and stepped into my arms. As we swayed to the the music, he only smiled up at me with the sweetest smile. If I could have frozen that moment in time.
My son considers that "our song" now. Everytime it plays, he gives me a knowing look and a smile - and occasionally we dance. On a recent evening, I went up to take a long, soaking, hot bath. He had prepared my iPod so that when I hit play that song would be the first I heard. He said to me that I deserved to relax after taking care of him and the twins all day.
One day I asked him why he likes that song so much and he said "it reminds me of you." Isn't that the way it is? Others see us in ways we can't even begin to see ourselves. Sometimes what our children see is the purest assessment of who we truly are. Sometimes what they see is convicting. Whether we're at our highest or lowest, they still have the amazing ability to accept us wherever we are. At times I've thought that everything I've never needed to know, I could learn from my nine year-old son. Maybe all of us could take a lesson from our kids. Are there parts of ourselves we refuse to accept? Ways we beat ourselves up instead of forgiving our faults or shortcomings and finding a better way to be, to live?
Here are the lyrics:
You just get better all the time Darlin' don't you change a thing Lately you're the only song I wanna sing And you're my reason to try You just get sweeter every day The little things you do and say If only you could see you through my eyes You just get better all the time
Oh, and I get the feelin' we can make it baby As long as you are by my side You're the music in my ears The laughter when the tears Are fallin' down in my life
And on down through the years You never tried to change my ways You never made me feel I had to say "I'm sorry"
You just get better all the time Why just today I heard you read my mind That kinda magic is so hard to find You just get better all the time
The funny thing is this reminds me of my son. Each time I listen to this song, I'm inspired to be a better Mama. Each time, I'm reminded that he sees so much more positive in me than I see in myself. And I realize a little more the meaning of love and grace.
How true it is - there are no shortcuts to any place worth going. This is the kind of thing my mom would have said to me when I was growing up. It's the kind of thing I now say to my nine year-old son. It also reminds me of something the late Yogi Berra said, "If you don't know where you're going, you'll end up some place else."
But how many of us really know where we're going? We so often let life happen to us without so much as lifting a finger. Let's be honest with ourselves and each other. Our decisions wind up being made for us, leaving us free to complain that some other force took away our choice. We leave our goals open to interpretation by others because we choose not to make them concrete and tangible. For example, we say we're trying to get healthy, eat better, and get more exercise, all in the name of losing weight. Then, instead of creating a plan to lose that weight, we throw caution to the wind. We wind up out with friends, at work with coworkers, or having a potluck at church, etc. without a firm plan. When that happens, we allow the presence of others, their unhealthy choices, peer pressure, and our own solidified, bad habits to dictate that we are going to throw away the little mental plan we have and we're going to call it "no will power" or "no motivation" or something along those lines. The truth is, we just set ourselves up for failure.
Every job has it's tools. A mechanic wouldn't be without his wrenches. A policeman wouldn't be without his gun. A teacher wouldn't be without a lesson plan. The list goes on. . . The point is, we can't do this job of turning our lives, our weight, around if we don't use the tools we need. What are some of the tools vital for weight loss? This list is not all-inclusive, but a great start. 1. a well thought-out, written out, plan (i.e. your SPARK PAGE) 2. a person or people to support said plan (i.e. SPARK PEOPLE!) 3. a kitchen stocked with healthy food options 4. an arsenal of strength and cardio fitness ideas 5. water 6. sleep
Isn't it time to take the steps necessary to insure we succeed? If there is a tool at our disposal that we haven't tried and yet we say we "can't do it", are "tired of not making progress", or "nothing I do makes a difference", then we are cheating ourselves. It's just a matter of finding the right combination of motivating factors. Things like: Healthy foods we can enjoy. Fitness activities we can get excited to do. Inspiration that strikes a cord for us.
The work will be hard, but will be incredibly rewarding as you see yourself make progress through a serious effort. Don't expect to give only a fraction of effort and reap serious rewards. Know where you're going. Know how to get there. And avoid the shortcuts and quick fixes. In the end, you will find yourself right where you meant to be. Remember, it's a place worth going. Make a plan and get there!
Tonight I said to my son, "Delayed obedience is disobedience." Moments after I said those words it occurred to me that I am guilty of the same. What have I delayed that is causing me to be disobedient? How long have I delayed? In some cases only moments have passed. In other cases, years have passed. In still others, my whole life has slipped by without so much as a glimmer of obedience. For example, God has been tugging on my heart and calling me to sing for Him for years. Have I pursued singing with anything other than casual desire? Sadly, no. Why is that? In fact, why do we delay any of the things we do? For me, I think it's fear. Fear of doing that thing I love the most, that I've poured most of myself into, and being told it's still not good enough.
And how often have I given myself a pass on going to the gym instead of obediently going? Too often! Am I throwing out my health and fitness and treating my body like a trashcan more often than not? Are we afraid of never being able to accomplish the goal we've set for ourselves - often some arbitrary number on a scale? How do you overcome the fear of failure and with courage step forward and receive whatever awaits? If I ultimately fail to achieve some arbitrary marker for success, that doesn't mean I have failed. Along the way I will become more of who I am supposed to be. I will gain so much more from simply taking the step and believing that what I'm doing is the right thing, the healthy thing.
So what about that arbitrary marker for success - a number on the scale. We strive like mad to reach that number. Sometimes we do it hoping to succeed, but expecting to fail. We set ourselves up for a self-fulfilling prophecy. We are what we think we are, either failure, or success. If we reach one number shy of the one we're shooting for on that scale, but have still lost 40 pounds, are we really a failure? Of course not!
Maybe it's time to shed the fear of failure, fear of change, fear of the unknown, fear of discomfort, fear of disappointment (either our own or someone else's), and simply take that step forward. We have to believe that we are moving in the right direction - striving for something great than ourselves...and for something greater than that number on our scale. Remember that the journey is more important than the destination.
