Three years ago, a family tragedy threw us into a whirlwind of pain, shock, confusion, and the list can go on. It also caused my writer’s block (which I am not that great at anyway) and I have struggled to blog since then.
But, we pushed through, and life has been on the up and up….
…..but so has my weight. It’s funny how depressing events really do turn you to Ben and Jerry’s. Mnom nom. Ice cream.
I hovered my mouse over the publish button more times than you can count before I final clicked publish, and sent out the latest post of me. It’s the biggest I have ever been.
My dear, sweet husband has been hands with helping me return back to a healthy weight. It hasn’t been easy. And neither is this post. Pride is such a nasty thing, not wanting to reveal our biggest fails, in fear of the judgement that will undoubtedly be thrown our way.
I sat in complete tears, confiding into Jerry Don that I needed a change. But here is where the problem lies, dear internet. Pride. Again.
I confessed I had no desire to work out in a gym. I already look at myself in disgust and I didn’t need help from the wondering eyes of cheerleaders and college girls, with their size-2-Starbuck’s-drinking-have-to-look-pretty-while-I-work-out ways.
….and that is when it happened, dear internet. My husband put me in my place. I’m talking, slap-across-the-face-knocked-the-wind-out-of-me, put me in my place. While speaking with a close family member about church many years ago, the family member made a comment that so many make. I have to change my ways before I start church. Call it God, call it Faith, call it whatever you like, but the words that came out of my mouth surprised me.
I looked at this family member straight in the eye and said, You don’t change your heart to go to church, you go to church to change your heart.
Never did I ever think that exact advice would be used against me. My husband looked me straight in the eye and said, you need to follow your own advice. You don’t get fit to join a gym, you join a gym to get fit.
Right then and there, he shut me up. But in understanding how uncomfortable I was, he forced the excuses out of me and took on the mission of helping me get fit. I call it Jerry’s Boot camp….
….because I am certain he is trying to kill me. Let me give you a preview of a workout. 10 sit ups, 5 burpees, 10 jumping jacks, and up the stairs and down for 5 rounds, pushing through as much as I can without breaks.
…..really. Trying to kill me. Maybe I shouldn’t have signed that life insurance policy yet.
With that being said, despite the stairs, sit ups, push ups, burpees, air squats, weight lifting, I feel like a new woman already. I still have a long journey ahead of me, but I’m thankful for the support of my friends, family, and most of all, my husband, despite the life insurance he might collect!
So, should some of you be looking for encouragement, don’t fear the gym. Everyone start somewhere; however, if you are looking for a workout outside of a gym, feel free to message my husband. Because he will make you love him and despite him all at once! But, you will feel like a new person.
You can do it! No excuses! Just do it!
On a side note, I bought these shoes 6 months ago and were pearly white until Jerry’s Boot Camp. The worn look is 3 weeks of brutality in the works, people!
Laura Stricklin 