In the beginning…

The first thing you should know is that I am over-weight.

So I am taking up running, and I am going to document my struggles and, eventually, my triumphs. By documenting, I will hopefully keep myself honest and on track.  With any luck I will also be able to entertain and, perhaps, someday inspire you.

Here’s some back story for you: As a kid, I played sports and was very active. Softball ruled my life while it was in season, and the rest of the time was being outdoors riding a bike or running around the neighborhood. This trend continued in high school, lots of sports and other activities, blah, blah, blah, continued playing softball in community college, still mostly active.  Even after I was done playing softball, I was still active. This would be the first time I’ve tried making friends with running.  Two or three miles a couple of times a week, supplemented with 2-3 nights a week out at the local clubs dancing.  All the dancing canceled out all the drinking, my occasional workouts held off everything else.

It started going steadily downhill about 7 years ago, after I met my to-be-husband.  At that time, I was still wearing a bikini and I was checking in at around 160 pounds on my 5’5″ frame.  I was comfortable enough with myself, but (like most women) still would have liked to be at my ‘fighting’ weight of 140.

Now, I would like to clarify here that it is not my husband’s fault that I got fat. There seems to be a correlation between being in a longterm relationship and gaining weight. The more content you are, the less you feel that you have to maintain a certain image. At least that’s what people tell me.

Anyway, back to the main story, over our (to date) 7 years together I have been packing on the pounds. It was slow, nothing too noticeable at first, a couple of pairs of pants that weren’t fitting very well anymore, a cute top that was not quite as flattering anymore.  And then all of sudden, I realize I am having to buy size 18 jeans, XL tee shirts, and that nothing I own looks good or feels good on me. Every time there is some event that is going to require me to dress up, I start to panick. I don’t know if my friends haven’t realized that I pretty much wear the same 2 outfits, or if they are just being kind by not saying anything.

And so goes the cycle of mental breakdowns over my self-esteem and rash promises to the gods that I would do better and I would get my body back. But it’s a work in progress. I currently weigh in at around 220, sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less.  The goal is to get down to 140-145 pounds, one race at a time.  And if I’m lucky, I might fall in love with running just to run.

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