I am 51 and 230 days, yes I just counted, and I think I finally found me. I was out for a run and I realized that I am perfectly content in this moment. And this one. And this one. And this one.
I was in Stanley Park, my beautiful new sanctuary. I had just explored a new trail and was thinking that I need to drive over there so that I have the energy to really explore the trails - it’s three miles round trip to get there from my house and I’ve only been back to running for a few weeks. I run without music so the experience is a symphony for the senses - colors, scents, sounds. It’s lovely.
A few weeks back my friend Cara told me she thought I didn’t need to lose any more weight, my hour glass was fantastic. A day or so later I sent her two pictures of me in my tights and tank, one with the tank pulled over my hips and one with it up around my waist - because it would ride up every time I pulled it down - this, I said, is why I still have weight to lose, my hips need to be small enough that my shirts don’t ride up.
This riding up applies to shirts, tanks, running tops, sweaters - everything. My hips are a size or two larger than the my upper body. Maybe three, I have no idea. It makes dresses very challenging.
What in the name of I don’t have all day to read this does this have to do with finding yourself Tara?
Yeah, I’m getting there.
Today I noticed that my tops aren’t riding up.
And I didn’t struggle during the first mile. I’m a distance runner and the beginning, before I warm up a little, is a strain.
And I was thinking about my lunch, my delicious, satisfying, filling lunch.
And I was thinking about never having margaritas again. Tons of sugar. It’s always been my intention to add them back in to my life experience, but I have been thinking a lot about this. I know I am at the top of the slippery slope. I’m not near the edge of it, but it’s not too far away. And I’m seriously going to add a giant sugary drink into my life experience? The idea makes me question my sanity. So I have been allowing the idea that I may never have them again. It makes me a little sad.
Then I think about where I am at this moment in my life. I’m clear headed. I’m motivated. I’m running. I’m planning things, not just running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off. I’m happy. I’m getting my house set up. Very slowly I grant you, but it’s happening. I’m sleeping well.
And my shirts aren’t riding up my hips.
I was running down that trail this morning thinking, I am finally being the person I always believed was buried deep inside, buried under 500 pounds of sugar.
I’ll keep working, I figure it can only get better from here, but this is a really good place.