I started watching The Biggest Loser again this season, despite thinking I wouldn’t get into it because Jillian Michaels had left the show, but I have to say Bob Harper is an inspirational trainer, stern and compassionate. I daydream of having him train me for a few months and whip my attitude and body into shape, I’m sure he would kick my ass into reality.
I was feeling pretty sorry for myself lately, my leg has been bothering me on a new level of discomfort and pain and I received news that there is definitely some nerve damage done. I was also reminiscing of how in the past year I was pumped and excited to run in the marathon that took place on Thanksgiving weekend, it had become somewhat of a tradition. I was thinking of how proud I felt for my husband, sister-in-law and close friends who ran in the BMO Okanagan Marathon. I was also feeling envious and sad. Self pity is a disgusting thing. I was thinking of how it was supposed to be me running, feeling the burn in my body and the exhaustion and crossing the finish line, getting my medal, crying with pride and feeling self fulfilment. But it wasn’t me and still a week later I found myself upset and bitter with all the wasted time and emotional and mental preparation I had put in. I wanted to stomp around like my four year does when he is seriously upset, but instead I smoked and withdrew.
A few nights ago, after catching up on all the recorded episodes of The Biggest Loser, I suddenly found myself embarrassed with myself. I don’t think I have ever felt shame like that as an adult. Here I was, smoking, limping around and contradicting my typical “go and get em” personality. I watched as a 63 year old contestant pushed her body and mind to excruciating limits through the years of abuse and neglect she imposed on her body, she cried and put everything into what she did. I watched another contestant, carrying the weight of her world on her shoulders, suffer with crutches from her own physical abuse. Yet week after week, without being able to use her legs to their full capability ,she looses 16 pounds.
My embarrassment mounted and I wondered if my husband, who sat quietly watching could tell how I was feeling. He knows me well.
I woke up on Saturday morning, slapped on a nicotine patch (I have them readily available), told myself that I wasn’t a smoker, shut up the nasty negative nancy in my head and brushed my teeth twice. I took in a deep breath and reminded myself all day why I was doing this and that I could do this, among all the other things I know I can accomplish.
I thought over and over, “I don’t want to be 63 years old, trying to save my life, never seeing my grandkids grow up, and complaining about things that have always been in my control, I don’t want these regrets. Suck it up! One step at a time, I will stop being counter productive and I will try to use the other 3 well working limbs that I have kicking around!”
I can’t believe my own whining, look at Terry Fox.