Countdowns

I really feel like Michael, this year's winner on The Biggest Loser, who started out at 530 pounds, and lost 200 in the course of the show. It's so gratifying to see that my number at the upper right corner of this blog now reads 399, which means I'm officially in the 300s!

Let me remind you--I started out at 730.

I never thought that this moment would happen. I'm a breath away from being halfway done with this process and in many ways it went so much more quickly than I ever could have imagined. I can see how much has been accomplished within this time period, how much has changed, and I am bewildered at how that has happened.

Slow and steady does win the race. It's a matter of never giving up, and diligently moving forward even when you'd rather just roll over and go to sleep. I got up this morning at 8am, leapt out of bed, got into my running gear and headed out to the park. The track was nice and shady at that hour, and the park was filled with joggers, bikers, speedwalkers and rollerbladers. I was determined to run a full mile, despite not training for the last two weeks. (It has been too darn hot to move, let alone run.) I imagined Jillian Michaels in my head, relentless and chastising me for the large amounts of pizza I had last night. I ran that full mile, and at the end of it, my heart and lungs were on fire and felt like they were going to burst right out of my chest. I began slowly walking the mile back to find my equilibrium again, and as I did, a very fit, very tan runner went past me and said into my ear, "Lookin' good, Mami!"

Now, I know for darn sure I was not lookin' good at that moment, but I've encountered this lovely code of runners on more than one occasion, where encouragement to keep going, even that extra step, is freely and generously given. It didn't matter that I was a beginner, or that I was struggling, or even that I was a stranger--it was the showing up that counted. Being present in the moment. Doing what you came to do, and knowing that tomorrow it can be better.

As I came back to my apartment, I passed a restaurant with this quote in the window:

"Skill to do comes from doing"--Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Yeah, Ralphie Boy!