I have hit the eight week mark on my journey of becoming healthy and fit. The scale mocks me enough to only release five of the fifteen or so pounds that I would like to lose. However, my clothes are becoming loser and my exercise routine has become something I look forward to rather than dread. The battle ropes have been retired until warmer weather comes to visit again. Instead, I have adopted a running/strength training tabata workout that has kind of become my jam. These are non scale victories that keep motivating me.
What I notice turning fifty is that I am not easily defeated. Past experience dictates that by this curve in the road, I would have quit. I would have gone back to old behavior that only hinders my potential. You see, I am embracing my worth. I am not defined by numbers on a scale. Oh sure, I give it the finger on a regular basis, but I don’t allow it to have power over me.
Isn’t that what life exudes? The process where you are no longer defined what society deems as failure. Failure is simply an opportunity to learn, grow, and start again. But, if I don’t take chances, I never get to have the experience. I am having small successes even if the scale isn’t always ready to affirm me. Acknowledging that my body doesn’t response to change like it did twenty even thirty years ago and being willing to stick to this plan even when I am frustrated indicates that I am in it for the long haul. While the outside is slowly transforming, it is my inner world that is blossoming. The self-defeating talk has hushed and when I run on the treadmill, lift fifteen pound weights, hold plank for over a minute, I hear my inner voice say, “Damn girl! You are rocking this!” That is all I need to keep moving forward. It may have taken fifty years, but I finally am affirming myself rather than waiting for society to give me a pat on the back for a job well done.