September 27, 2012

Smaller

With the Chicago marathon less than two weeks away, I've been thinking an awful lot lately about this year: how it started, where I assumed it would go, where it has actually lead me. There have been many smiles and an awful lot of tears; I'm grateful for the balance of both to keep me present and aware of how good things are, even when skies are grey.

When I stopped training for the marathon, it wasn't because I was lazy or it was too hard so I gave up. I was simply exhausted, and the thought of running 15, 20, 26 miles had me in tears. So, I found someone to take over my bib, and I gave in to the exhaustion, sleeping 10 hours at night plus at least one nap every day. And not a catnap. Like, 4 hours of midday sleep.

I still wanted to run, just not 26.2 miles. I had a half marathon scheduled in early September, so I kept running - until I couldn't. I could do three, four miles or so. But by the end, the pain was excruciating. My body felt very sore, and I found myself forced to stop. So, I found someone to take over my bib, and I gave in to the soreness, sticking instead to long walks for my exercise.

One thing I've developed since becoming healthier and focusing more on my health is a good sense of understanding. I am much more in-tune with myself than I was at 345 pounds, and I know almost immediately when something is not as it should be.

The exhaustion. The soreness. I knew something had to be going on.

I had a hunch, got tested for it, and then it was confirmed.

At 345 pounds, I was a lot of things, but happy and satisfied were not among them. I had just finished my Masters and had a great job lined up for the fall. It was time to invest in my body the way I had with my mind. I was ready to be truly, genuinely happy with my body. I was ready to be fully, completely satisfied with my life.

The last two tears have been a constant pursuit of those goals, and I'm extraordinarily pleased with where I am now, who I am, what I have become.

Since the beginning, I was obsessed with the idea of matryoshka, Russian nesting dolls. The idea that there was a big thing - lovely, but big - yet inside, you could find something just as lovely, just a bit smaller.



And then smaller still.



And then even smaller.


Now, I'm about to embark on a new phase of my journey. One that, like so many things I've experienced so far, I'd only previously dreamt of, not considered actually possible.

Like everything on this journey, it's new, it's scary, and it's going to make me stronger.

Like everything on this journey, I have incredible offline support to cheer me on and encourage me, between my friends, family, and absolutely incredible partner.

And once again, I'm finding that inside this lovely smaller thing is something just as lovely, but even smaller.


Stay tuned.

A small note: if anyone knows me or Matt in real life, PLEASE do not post anything about this to Facebook, Twitter, etc. - we're still in the revealing process and would like to do so on our own terms. Thank you in advance for your understanding!