Every so often I will – against all odds – latch onto something. A few moons ago, I finally decided that I had more control over my health than I was willing to admit. Maybe “decided” isn’t quite the right word. Perhaps what happened is that I was finally ready to accept what I always knew to be true: what was stopping me from being healthy wasn’t my work schedule or my commitments to various nonprofits. I finally understood that what was stopping me was ME. That revelation was sobering. And liberating.
Once I realized that I had control, I began to seek out ways to make better health choices. I got a handle on my food and exercise choices. Now, when I see changes in the scale or the fit of my clothing, I can do a pretty good job of pinpointing the issue – without first languishing in despair for days or weeks. And when I start to feel overly anxious even when there’s no obvious reason for it, I know I can look at my sleep patterns and intensify my exercise to nip that once-paralyzing anxiety in the bud!
I’m proud to say I completed several biking miles by participating in various charity races around town — something I previously had assumed I would never be able to do. And the best part? I love every aching mile.