So for several months now, I've been a journey to make healthier choices, lose weight and get in shape. I haven't failed completely, but the successes have been small. This week, I started going back to the gym.
Let me start by saying that I hate exercising. I hate to sweat and I don't enjoy it one bit. I have resigned myself to the fact that it is one of the ways I will achieve my goals, so I'm determined to go until I like it.
I was off work today, so I went to the gym mid-morning, which is not my normal time. Obviously, it was much less crowded than at 5:30 in the evening. It took me almost an hour to make myself leave the house and haul my backside in there because I just didn't want to go. Once I got there, I looked around and noticed all the thin people working out, barely breaking a sweat. Here I am, with my jiggly, fat body, sweating and breathing hard and honestly, quite irritated. I sat there doing the leg curl having my own pity party saying "God, why couldn't I have been born thin? Why is it so easy for me to gain and others don't even have to think about it?" It was a pathetic moment, I admit.
I got up from the machine and went to move to the next when a man walked past me. In that moment, my world changed.
This young man appeared to have cerebral palsy or some type of similar disability. He had braces on his knees and ankles and he walked with a walker. His ability to walk was so bad that he would have to take a step, wait a couple of seconds, then take the next step. You could tell by looking at him that he had to put a great deal of effort in just to walk.
I finished my set and moved on to the next, but couldn't get him out of my mind. As I moved around the gym, I watched him walk to a machine where he could sit on a bench and exercise his upper body. Then, he struggled to situate his walker so he could grab the machine for support and sit down to exercise. More than once, he almost fell and it took him close to 20 minutes just to get seated and ready to go.
The next thing I know, I'm sitting on the leg press with tears streaming down my face. My heart broke for him. I hated watching him struggle to do something that I take for granted. I hated that he was so young and knowing that he would likely spend the rest of his life like this. I hated the part of me that was spoiled and selfish and having a pity party just moments earlier.
I hurried to the locker room to compose myself. While I was there, I asked forgiveness for being so ungrateful. I thanked God for blessing me with health and life, with the ability to walk normally without a struggle and for all the things I take advantage of.
I hate to sound corny, but it was moment of clarity for me.
I am so blessed.
Blessed beyond what I deserve.
I ended up leaving the gym at this point because I was almost done and I was really upset. I just couldn't get him out of my mind. I don't know if I'll ever see him there again. But I will not forget.
I decided to write this down, not just to share with you, but for me, so that whenever I scroll back through this blog, I will see it. I don't want to forget how I felt today. I am sure I'll still have many days that I don't want to go exercise, and I'm sure I still won't enjoy it, But I am determined to thank God every time I walk through those doors on my healthy, functioning legs, no matter how jiggly or chubby they may be.