Not long ago I spent every night caviling myself for failing once again to remember at the start of the day to care enough for myself to exercise and eat less. I wasn't always this way. I wish my children could see who I once was, before I was injured at the age of twenty. Well if you have continued to read, hoping for light at the end of the tunnel, please continue a bit farther. This self-pity routine of mine lasted till I could no longer do what I loved. 

At first I was so discouraged. Even going for a walk hurt and made me feel exhausted. My chest felt as if someone were sitting on it. My doctor had given me a clear ticket to do what felt possible. So I learned to swim. Let the water carry this weight for me while I made my heart and lungs learn to be active again. The young woman who once biked 30 miles a day on weekends, backpacked in 10 or more miles a day to camp was beginning to emerge.

But as I struggled each day, forgave myself the setbacks, I discovered I laughed more, smiled more, looked forward to each day..........not just to someday in the future when I wouldn't be overweight. I began to live each day, not just survive. I was done treading water, looking for some miracle to save me. I had started swimming and could finally see the shore.

No, I can't bike as far yet and am only up to 5 miles in a hike. I don’t hide from myself any longer. Do you need to know my weight now? I am still considered overweight. But at least now, I know I won't always be.

I have discovered once again the joy in the journey.