As I circled the track this morning, I thought about how much weight I've lost over the last five months, the changes I've made in my life to do it, and how I might feel when I step on the scale tomorrow and discover whether or or not I've crossed the 100-pound mark.
Hmm. How should I feel? Friends tell me I should celebrate, throw a little party- reward myself for the accomplishment. Honestly, I'm not feeling it- celebratory, that is.
When I had my epiphany back in May it was the realization that I had physically become someone I should never have become. That I had let myself go (and grow) physically into a person that was running a serious risk of devastating health issues and a person who was physically uncomfortable most of the time. Except for the palpable pain of the possible consequences of continuing on that self-destructive path, it wasn't ever an emotional thing. I was emotionally jolly before and am generally happy now.
I look at this whole thing like my body is an old car that over the years has been filled with bad gas and driven down a rough road. After years of bad fuel and an accumulation of road debris and junk in the trunk, it was time for some restoration. I'm not looking at this whole weight loss thing as a singular event. My restoration is going to take a while and continue throughout my life. Hell, my restoration is the rest of my life. Losing 100 pounds is but one in a string of short term goals- just one more rung on the ladder to v4.7. The results are and will continue to be a wonderful thing- just not cause for celebration.
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