Enough Already

I think I finally got there. I know, you say you've heard it before. Or you ask, "Where. Where did you finally get?" I got to that place of disgust and self-loathing that I think, I hope, I pray will lead me to some substantial and sustained action that brings about real change. That would be change to my midsection in general, to its size in particular.

I am so fat and have been that way for so long, that I no longer redden at the idea of wearing the same pair of pants everyday because that's all I have. I do redden, however, at the wheezing sound I make when I walk more than a few feet and at the restricting pinch I feel when I sit down, my gut pushing on my lungs. 

I started walking. I did. Last night. Right after eating a few pounds of Reese's, I went out for a short stroll to attempt my comeback, to unfat, to get fit. The journey of a thousand miles, they say, starts with a single step. I took the step.

Last week I made an attempt. I walked out the front door at the MDCC Greenwood Center and across the road to CVS where I purchased two large bags of Reese's. I gave one bag to a coworker. I ate the rest. The whole bag in one sitting.

Last night, I ate another bag of Reese's, a large gift bag. But I am serious about doing something to reclaim my fitness, to take my life back from inertia, from laziness, from despondency. Somewhere in a much earlier post, I wrote about the depression that hit me this past summer, how I could not bring myself to get out of bed for about two weeks. Now I realize that though I have improved some, I am essentially doing the same thing now. I go to work then go home and get in bed for a nap. The problem is, I never get up from my nap until the next morning. 

I have learned one thing. The only thing that brings change is change. I have to change my behavior and no one can do it for me. I have to do it, to get up, to get going, to get active.

So I made a start. Again. 

Pray for me. 

Please. 

Life is too short to fritter it away in inactivity.