Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire!

When I wrote this morning that I was “a tad” disappointed by my weigh-in, that was a complete falsehood. I was really upset. I mean, I was totally and completely heartbroken when I saw that red number come up on the screen of my scale. Yesterday I was a whole pound less than I was this morning, and that was before eating well and pushing myself with the exercise all day on Friday. I was so distraught to see that I had missed the mark I was so sure I could make with all that effort.

So when I awoke and weighed myself, went to this online journal and recorded it, I was not happy at all. And I am ashamed to say that I continued with my foul mood for the majority of the journey to get out to the 5K race. It was raining, I was nervous, wrong time of month, crappy weigh-in, unfamiliar path, blah, blah, blah… I had a million reasons to sustain my bitterness and deny myself the enthusiasm and excitement of such an important day.

Then we arrived. My husband and I found the hall where they were doing registration and I started to let it all go. I quickly realized – as I was given a shirt and a race number – that I was about to miss out on one of the most important events of my life regardless of being present for it.

I changed into my walking gear and looked around at the gathering crowd - all there to walk, jog, run, and support a cause that they believed in. My husband stood by my side the entire time, never wavering in his support and loving gaze. We headed out and looked at the arch that marked the start and finish line of the race; I felt excited and scared and proud.

I suddenly grasped just how childish I had been by sulking. I thought about how unappreciative I was being for the loss that I had seen in the morning, even if it wasn’t as much as I had hoped for. I recognized the ease with which I have walked this path thus far and the immaturity that I had shown by being ungrateful for a perfectly good drop in weight. Me not getting to the fifty pound mark this week is of no significance in the long run. I felt small when faced with my shortcomings.

But I also felt privileged to be doing something for a charity that helps provide the children of developing nations with educational opportunities. I was proud that I had not let a bad mood convince me to scrap the idea of walking in my first 5K. I even found salvation from my earlier actions by recognizing that I had not yet destroyed my chance to participate in the race with an open heart and a freshly renewed spirit. I stood taller – knowing that it was not too late – and then it was time for the event to begin.

I kissed and hugged my husband, he wished me luck, and I made my way to the middle of the pack of 170 registrants. The clock counted down from ten and we were off! And I was running.

I had toyed with the idea of jogging for three or four really short spurts of the race – just enough to help me slip under the fifty minute mark that was my goal – and when I was standing with the other participants I made up my mind to do just that. Except when I ran out of steam after approximately a minute of very slow running, I only walked for about another minute before I saw my husband standing off to the side of the first looping part of the route, waiting to take my picture. So I started jogged again just to give him an opportunity to take a nice photo.

Then I walked. And then I jogged. And then I walked and jogged some more. Before I knew it I was passing the water station at the three kilometer point so I started doing even more bursts of speed. I think when it was all said and done I ran at least a quarter of the route, although I am sure it was no more than half. I was shocked at the high amount of energy that I was experiencing, but I was determined to finish strong so even though I was already sweaty, red-faced, and wanting to keel over, I pushed it for all I had during the last minute or so and completed my first 5K with a total time of 42:01!!!

Forty-two minutes and one second! I still can’t believe it! How on earth did I do that?! I am getting emotional just writing about it now. I don’t incorporate jogging or running into my workouts yet and I still weigh-in at nearly 218 pounds. I have no idea how I pulled that off, but I do know that I am extremely, out of this world ecstatic about it!

Something lit a fire under my behind and I am feeling fortunate and blessed that the race happened in the way that it did. I am thankful that I did not let myself miss out on an incredible experience because I was sulking over something that wasn’t even remotely bad, and I’m pleased that I moved on to much bigger things without continuing to focus on what I perceived as negative.

I did a 5K!!! I walked and jogged it with much more energy than I thought I would ever by able to muster, and I completed the race in a shade over forty-two minutes! I am still stunned, but so grateful! Now, with tears in my eyes, I know that this is real. I know that I can lose the rest of this excess weight and become the healthy person that I have always wanted to be. I know that I can because I am already closer than I dreamed possible. I know that I can because it isn’t the number that flashed at me this morning that I will remember from today, but the glowing digits that I saw as I passed that finish line.