Just so we're clear... I hate talking about Me. I hate writing about Me. Oh sure, I can espouse random thoughts and opinions with the best of them, but when that spotlight shines on Me and My Life, I'm usually the first cockroach to dart for cover.
Today, fate finally came for me.
And in that moment, I was at a loss.
Instead of feeling elation or jubilance, all I felt was self doubt as the questions started to mount in my head. "Shouldn't I be happy?" "What the heck do I do now?" "Do I celebrate?" "Should I celebrate?" And how exactly do you mark an achievement of which you are fiercely proud, yet ultimately, are too embarrassed to mention to anybody? How do you say something of consequence knowing full well that you would rather just let this moment pass quietly into yesterday?
Come on Kyle... Like always. Like every post you've written on this blog. Just start writing. Just start.
Reminding myself that "You don't have to be Great to start, but you have to start, to be Great," I start typing...
My story begins on June 10, 2009. Like so many of these stories, this too starts with a doctor's appointment and an annual checkup.
I show up at the office and check in at the front desk. After filling out the necessary paperwork, they finally call me in. Even as I make my way toward my doctor's office, the nurse beckons me to follow her. (this is the part of the movie where time slows down...) She eventually leads me down a stark white hallway. Awaiting me at the end, is the very machine that will ultimately decide my fate. The scale.
I step on.
After much fiddling, the nurse who was completely devoid of expression, quietly writes down the number... She writes 278.
The curtain falls. Intermission.
Today is Saturday, January 28, 2012. I woke up at 6 AM this morning, knowing that there was a very good chance that this would be the day. I lie in bed thinking about the possibility, somehow willing that number to appear. I continue to lay in bed for another thirty minutes, lest I seem too eager. The house is quiet as if in reverence for the occasion that was about to happen. I walk up to the scale who has been my friend and many times my enemy. I push down and wait for the readout to show 0.00. Heart in throat, I step up to the plate. The zeros flicker for a minute as if the scale was trying to make up its mind on whether to make or break me. The flicker stops, and the scale reads 178.8.
At that point, and just because that is simply the kind of person I am... I, of course, step off the scale, clear it, and try again just to make sure there weren't any wardrobe malfunctions... 178.8 rings up one more time.
I had made it. I had lost 100 pounds...
Finale and Reality Check.
Now when I look in the mirror, I don't see six pack abs. I don't see any person even closely resembling an "After" picture like the ones on TV. But the numbers don't lie. 100 pounds is a big deal and I've done it primarily on my own without a gym membership, trainer, expensive equipment, or special weight loss program.
I'm proud of that.
I know that I'll never be on the cover of Men's Health, but because of what I've accomplished, I now have the confidence knowing that I will be there when my kids graduate. I can sleep peacefully at night knowing that I will be there to walk McKenna down the aisle when that day comes.
If I can impress upon you one lesson I've learned from my challenges along this journey, it's this:
If you are unhappy with something in your life, more often than not,
YOU have the power to change it.
I'm proof of that...
I still have many areas in my life that need attention and downright change, but I've learned through experience that change IS possible, and that I CAN change.
On June 10, 2009, I sat quietly in my car just after having seen my doctor. Right then, I made a silent commitment to myself.
That commitment was to be a better person today than I was yesterday.
That mission continues...with earnest.