It was gray, cold, spitting a mix of snow and rain and early. But I, with my 3XL boobs in a 2XL sports bra, WVU shirt and sweatpants with a bandanna around my head posed for "before" pictures by the front door like it was my very first day at school.
After forward posing *snap*, side posing *snap*, back posing *snap*, we were off. And we were off in total Oswald style. Let me explain, my maiden name was Osborne and every time any of us tries to do anything, something always goes wrong. You know, like the Griswalds. So, we've deemed ourselves The Oswalds.
We stopped at a local convenience store and my husband jumps out to get us two bottles of water. He comes out with two bottles of Deer Park water with the "sport caps". Now, yes, I'm dressed like I'm about to try out for Sumo wrestling, but what about me says "sport cap" worthy??? Well, it took us the rest of the way to the gym to figure out how to open the flip caps. We gangsta...totally Oswald G's. So, by the time we walk in the door, we've got working water bottles, Jeff is getting his membership card and I truck it to the Women's locker room to change shoes.
Now, I've been very candid here. I'm practically a "Little Person" but I am just about three inches too tall. So, I'm ready to go. New shoes on my feet feeling good, new MP3 player in my pocket, big ass headphones around my neck (I hate ear buds!) and I walk up to the treadmills. I swear the deck of the treadmill almost came to my knees. So, up on it I climb.
The bells and whistles and buttons and commands overwhelm me. It asks for my weight. Why the hell do you have to know my weight you damn piece of shit? Jeff said it was to tell me how many calories I burned. So, I plug 3-2-6 into it's big jumbotron screen wondering if the old men on the ellipiticals behind me can see it. Then I think...eh...eff it. So, after my weight, I set the timer for 15 minutes and turned on that bad boy. One mile an hour was too slow. Jeff, who is already chugging along at four miles an hour, tells me to keep jacking up the speed. Two miles an hour seems to do the job. I'm walking. I put my headphones on and start my MP3 player waiting for the first song to start and when it does, I realize that I have a new anthem.
I'm walking along and these are the words I hear sung to me by India Arie:
Not a destination
There are no mistakes
Just chances we've taken
Start making a mental list in my head
Let's make this a beautiful day.
Beautiful words sung so eloquently in my ears on this the first day of a new year, a new decade, and a new journey to reclaim my health, my life, myself.
Some people are moved by cheerleaders on the sidelines cheering them along. I'm moved by my heart. You can "you go, girl" me until you lose your voice, but the biggest thing to keep me going, to make me realize that I am worth it is usually found in a song, a poem, a book, or a heartwarming movie.
So, after one hour of working out the best I could given my personal fitness level (which is minus 10 on a scale of 1-10) I must say I'm proud of myself. Because I did this today. Well, my husband deserves some credit for making me wake up early enough to get to the gym, but I did this, I'm doing this. I made today a beautiful day. And the forecast for tomorrow looks pretty damn beautiful, too.
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