Fence Sitting
I'm thinking of doing Boot Camp. That's a six-week program of intense exercise taught by someone who is a hardcore athlete. I really want to do it. My reservations: being at there at 5 a.m.—that's currently the time I get up—and it costs $150—and that's kind of steep for me right now. I think I'm in good enough shape to do it. But I'm still on the fence. It would be a good kick in the butt, though.
I was thinking this morning that's it's been about a year since I made the decision to get in shape. I've lost around 60 pounds since then. I feel better than I've felt in years. And it's hard for me to believe that I was ever "that other person"—that fat woman who could barely get around. I still have a long way to go, but the distance is getting shorter.
Last year in April, I went to Williamsburg. While on this trip, I began making some lifestyle changes. I walked a lot. I tried to watch what I was eating. I started trying to live again. It had been a long time since I was truly alive. I was still in heavy grief. But I knew I had to make some changes. My health had been rapidly deteriorating for more than 18 months. I felt sick all of the time. My body ached. My own weight was getting impossible to haul around. My joints hurt. I couldn't even bend over. But much has changed.
It's amazing what a difference a year makes.
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