Time To JUMP

December 2012 I was in the best shape of my life. I ran my first 5K, I was doing beginner CrossFit routines at home. I was down to a size 8 and for the first time in my life that size 8 was getting loose. I worked my ass off to get there. I exercised for an hour a day, ate clean and drank tons of water. In fact, other than special occasions, all I drank was water and black coffee.

Then my world came crashing down. My now ex-husband took off for another state 900 miles away. We were already estranged. The only reason I hadn’t moved out was money, which I was working on. Instead of finding his own place and better paying job here, close to his kids, he ran home to his mom in the midwest. This devastated my kids. And placed a ton of pressure on my shoulders to keep everything together.

It became beyond difficult to afford to buy the clean food we were eating, especially because we were living on food stamps on that point. I got sick, repeatedly, without money to go to a doctor I tried to self medicate with ibuprofen and vitamin C. My workouts suffered. My grocery shopping suffered. I never got back into a great rhythm again.

Fast forward two plus years. I have gained forty pounds back and gone from a loose size 8 to a tight size 14. YIKES! I hate the lady in the mirror. Not because she’s curvy. Because I know she can do better but has failed at staying motivated with her efforts. Bear loves fit Momma and fluffy Momma so he has not stopped saying, “Woohoo” when I get nekkid, bless him.

He does however pick up that I am mad at myself and borderline miserable with my appearance. He has a friend at work that I have met, we’ve all hung out. She lives near us and has a gym membership. He said that she said anytime I want to go I am welcome. I have never been to a gym aside from my dad taking me to a meet and greet with Mike Tomzack in the late 80’s or early 90’s and then once I walked into one to grab a brochure on their prices.

Time to jump in. I might look ridiculous but in an hour and a half I will be sweating with the January crowds. I need a time machine so I can tell 2012 me to never stop working out no matter what. Hell, I could go back to 1998 me and make some big changes but I don’t believe in regret. I believe in lessons. Taught with the proverbial two by four to the head. Over and over and over again.