I haven’t been blogging for about a month (maybe more?) which also means I haven’t been running. I could go through the list of excuses I’d made for myself, from bad weather to a busy schedule. The truth is.. I don’t know what happened.
Oddly enough, I’m somewhat of a perfectionist. I try to do things as completely and as well as possible. But when there’s a snag in the fabric, the entire weave just unravels and I completely fall apart. I missed a day of running. One day turned into two and the next thing I know, I hadn’t donned my trainers in over three weeks. With the 5k coming up, I just accepted a big fat ’maybe next year’ as my destiny.
And then last night happened.
My brother was visiting and somehow we got on the topic of my weight. He knows a thing or two about getting fit. This time two years ago, he was teetering on the 300lb mark and was well on his way down the path of heart disease, diabetes - much like our father - and any other number of complications. But through a strict plan and lots of hard work, he’s looking and feeling great and is in the best shape he’s probably ever been in. So I listened to what he had to say. It was hard, answering his questions. I’ve never told anyone in my family my weight. But he said something very poignant to me.
“If you can’t be honest and open about that number, you’ll never really be open to changing it.”
After a very honest and terrifying hour, we had a game plan. It will be difficult and I will get discouraged, as always is the case. But this time I don’t feel like I am alone. I have the support of someone who not only believes I will succeed, but expects me to. Sometimes, that’s all the difference.