Caught in the middle. That's the best way to describe how I feel right now. I'm bearing the scars of years upon years of bodily abuse. Yet that life is over for me. I've found a way to eat and live that works for me, and I know it to my very core. I know now this is the way I'm going to live the rest of my life. In the terms of my lifetime, I've only been practicing what is best for me for a blink of an eye. The internal changes that I have undertaken in the past few months are going to take years before they manifest into a badge of honor and wellness I can wear on the outside.
You see, I want to be someone that a stranger can look at and without knowing one thing about me, I want it to be clear that I do right by my body. Looking at me there would be no question that I live the kind of lifestyle that makes my muscle tone defined, my skin glow, and every move effortless and comfortable. I'm not there yet. My head is there, however, my body is not.
I realized my middle status when I was at my staff meeting last week, and a bunch of people were making plans to run in the morning. They were heading out for an easy 5K. All the people that you would look at and expect that they keep active were invited. No one invited me (not in a rude way, just in a not knowing me way). I get it. I do not look like a person that wakes up at 6:30am and runs. But I want to. I have finally figured out the words between the book cover so it can be judged. You can best be sure that at next year's staff meeting I will be on that run, if not leading it, and it will surprise no one, not even me.