It’s a journey, not a destination

I’ve been neglecting this blog for a while. I’ve had a few “when life hands you lemons” moments, and seemed to have lost my recipe for lemonade at the time when I needed it most. Yesterday one of those moments happened, and I was reminded that although we have no control over many of the things that happen to us, how we react to them is 100% within our control. I’m sad to say that I didn’t react to some of those things the way that I wish I would have, but I learned a powerful lesson.

Whatever the goal, be it fitness, happiness, or health – it is a journey, not a destination. If you think that you can achieve any of those without continuing to work at it, you’ve lost the battle.

Those of you who know me in real life know that weight has been a lifelong struggle. I’ve gained and lost hundreds of pounds over the last 30 years. Each time, I looked at the weight loss as a project, thinking that once I reached my destination I would be free and happy and the problems that got me to an unhealthy weight would miraculously be cured and I wouldn’t have to struggle.

This past March, I reached a crisis point in my life. Some of the stressors were within my control, but many were not. My health was bad. My mood was depressed. My life seemed to be spinning madly out of control. I was not fit, healthy or happy. In desperation, I turned to diet and exercise because those were two things that I could control. By taking control of what I could control, I was able to better deal with the aspects of my life that were beyond my control. I had an outlet for that stress and negativity. This time, instead of dieting, I am focusing on remaking my life. I know that to be happy and healthy, I must fuel my body with healthy foods and get plenty of exercise. This isn’t a “fix,” it is a journey that will never end. If it ends, the trip is back to an unhappy, unhealthy place.

I have spent part of this journey sharing my story with others through Facebook and on this blog. Sharing keeps me accountable, but I hope that it also shows others that depression, obesity, arthritis, auto-immune disease and a host of other problems are not insurmountable. My journey began when someone else shared their journey and I was inspired to make a change.

On the days when I put in the work (eating clean, exercising, practicing thankfulness and being kind), I enjoy happiness. I enjoy the benefits of increased health and stamina. On the days when I slip back into my old habits and cure hurt feelings with potato chips and lash out at the person who I perceive hurt me, I wallow in pain. The emotional pain becomes physical pain as my body becomes inflamed and my joints hurt, which makes me put off exercise, and throws my whole system into a mess.

I cannot claim that happiness is merely a choice for everyone. Some people are suffering so much that telling them to “choose to be happy,” minimizes their pain. I do not want to do that. For me, though, happiness began with a choice, and it depends on me making the right choice every time I am confronted by something that makes me want to crawl back into the hole that I created for myself.

Fitness is a journey (one that I’m enjoying more and more as I progress). Happiness is a journey (one that is becoming easier day by day). Some days the journey seems solitary. Other days I am surrounded by people who inspire my every step. I am not content to just keep doing what I am doing. I want to be fitter, happier and healthier than I am today. I am doing this for myself, but if I can inspire others by sharing what I learn that is a bonus.

I am learning to reach out and reconnect with others. The journey does not have to be solitary (and it’s much more fun when there are companions!

We all need goals, but they are mere milestones on our journey. When we reach one, there must be another to look for or we will lose our way. The journey never ends. Thank you for joining me on this step of the way.

Because I’m Happy! (How a rock on a bench can make the whole day brighter)

Posted by BecomingBetty

This little blog of mine has brought me a lot of happiness in the past week or so. It has given me an opportunity to share my thoughts with people I’ve never met. In doing so, I hope that I’ve brought some relevant information, some insight, or some HAPPINESS to someone who I’ve never had the opportunity to touch before.

Today I had a court hearing in a nearby town. Although my role in the proceedings went smoothly, my client was noticeably upset. This is not a happy time for her. I decided to take the scenic route back to my office. As I looked out over Lake Erie, I immediately felt calmer – happier.

My computer was applying updates when I return to the office, so I looked at Facebook on my phone. There, I saw the prettiest little stones. My friend Sue found these on a bench at the beach and she shared them on Facebook. I’ve been thinking a lot this week about how our words and actions affect others. I’ve been reminding myself to LISTEN. I’m trying to remember to SPEAK KINDLY. There on my screen were two little stones painted by an unknown giver reminding me to do just that.

I immediately sent Sue a message and asked if I could share her photo. She sent me that one and two more.The email subject was “Because I’m Happy!! Stones.” Sue’s happiness was contagious. I haven’t talked to Sue since I left an organization we were in together. I thanked her and let her know I’ve been down this week. We resolve to try to fit a lunch into our busy schedules soon.

When I opened the files, I was excited to be able to read the note that was loving placed with the stones.

Been thinking of someone lately?

Of course you have!

Don’t forget #1

YOU!

Please take a rock, they are free!

Use them to brighten your or someone else’s day!

Remember smile brightly.

Love freely.

Pay it forward.

❤ Me

One of the advantages of being self-employed is the fact that I can abandon the office in the middle of the day for a few minutes. I declared it “break time” and grabbed Jimi the Wonderdog. He brought me my leash (that’s another post) and to the beach we went to see if the stones were still there. I really hoped they were. We walked from the office to the beach in the beautiful sun and found the stones just where Sue said they would be. As we admired the collection, a lady walked up beside us and we struck up a conversation. Today was her little girl’s first day in Kindergarten. I asked where and we had a nice chat about the Montessori program she’s attending. I know of it, and I’m sure she’s going to love it! She chose a cute little turtle for her little girl, and she chose one for herself that had special meaning. We talked about why it was meaningful to her. The conversation turned to hospice care, and we discussed a hospice center we had both visited. We talked about the beauty and hope that we were both surprised to find in a facility for people who are facing death. She gave Jimi the Wonderdog some attention because she was grieving the loss of her pet. (Jimi was more than happy to oblige with some doodle love).

I had a hard time deciding whether to take the rock that said “Listen,” or the one that said “Speak Kindly.” I reached for “Listen,” and my new friend said, “That one is perfect. You know how to listen.”

Another friend I hadn’t seen for a while was the next to arrive. We talked about the stones, and life, and Jimi the Wonderdog. She gave him a bowl of water (it was hot!) and I enjoyed our chat. As I turned to walk away, I was pulled back to the bench (by the stones – not by Jimi – he is well-behaved for the most part).

There, the stone that said “Joy” called out to me. I hope the unknown artist will not mind that I helped myself to two rocks instead of one. “Joy” joined “Listen” in my pocket. We took a last look at the beach and waved goodbye to my friends.

Jimi and I walked back to the office, drank a whole bunch of water (like I said, it’s HOT!), and I set about putting words on a screen to share these cute little rocks and their message of joy with all of you.

So, my friends, be kind to yourselves. Don’t be afraid to talk to strangers. Pet someone’s dog (but ask permission first). Listen. Speak kindly. Love freely.

Thank you, joyful artist, whoever you may be. Today you touched my life in so many ways. Because you cared enough to paint some stones and arrange them on a bench by the water, my life was changed. Today I reached out to a friend I hadn’t talked to. I took a walk in the sunshine (with Jimi the Wonderdog). I met a new friend. I had a great conversation with another friend. I drank lots of water. I walked 6,000 steps.

Joyful artist, thank you for your gift. I don’t know yet how I will pay it forward, but I will begin by sharing your enthusiasm. May it inspire many others as it inspired me.

If you hurry to Main Street Beach in Vermilion, the rocks are on the bench on the left side of the platform. While you’re there, visit the Little Free Library, buy a cold drink from the volunteers at the Shore Thing stand (tell them I sent you), and enjoy all that life has to offer.

That’s how a little rock can made the whole day brighter.

You’re the inspiration

Posted by BecomingBetty

I began my fitness journey on March 9, 2014. I’ve done the “diet thing” many times before. As a 47 year old adult female who has been overweight for most of her life, I have mastered the art of the excuse. I can justify nearly any unhealthy food or activity. I can procrastinate with the best of them, and the person it has harmed the most is me.

This time, it is different. My husband says he, too, can sense that this time, it is different. This time, it is about changing my life, and not just about doing what I need to do to make the numbers on the scale come down.

The difference, this time, is inspiration. With Robin Williams’ tragic death in the media this week, I will share that depression played a major role in this change. I was struggling with some issues that had me feeling awfully bleak. I was still struggling with my father’s death in early 2013. I was struggling with feelings of inadequacy as a partner, a mother, and a lawyer. I looked in the mirror and struggled with the signs of age and bad health. I was tired of the struggle. I was so unhappy that I lost sight of the many things that make my life so beautiful.

A series of coincidences, or perhaps providence, led me to step on the treadmill instead of eating a package of gluten free cookies or a chocolate bar. I have a group of people in my life who I refer to as my “invisible friends.” Some are ladies I met on or through an online “mom” forum I was active in for many years. Others are people who I met through DDP Yoga forums, or other lawyers I reached out to on Facebook. These people have played an important role in my journey.

When I posted in a “secret group” on Facebook that I was feeling very depressed, a mom suggested I join “Moms Run This Town.” I poo-poo’ed the idea. I never envisioned myself a runner. Soon, another invisible friend suggested we train online together for a 5k. Running took over my facebook feed as friends, both in real life and my “invisible” network, began sharing running posts.

One night, hurt, angry and sad, I brushed off the thick layer of dust that had settled on the treadmill, and I took that first step. I came back the next night, and the next. As is typically the case, life began to get in the way. One night as I was browsing Facebook instead of getting some exercise, I saw a conversation between two “invisible friends.” One asked the other how to ensure success at getting in shape. His response was a photo that said, “Commit.”

I found my inspiration in that graphic. I think of it daily. To succeed at something – anything, you must commit to succeeding. I found inspiration in the “cheers” that my running app sent my way when my friends “liked” my status that said I was on a run. Each cheer inspired me to take another step – to go another 1/10th mile.

I wasn’t sure how my friends would react. I worried that I would annoy them with my fitness posts. I kept posting anyway.

Soon, I began receiving messages. “I wanted you to know that you inspired me to get back to the gym.” “You inspired me to get moving.” “Thank you for sharing your journey. I wanted you to know that I joined a gym.”

I thanked each of them for reaching out, but on the inside, I was saying, “I’m not an inspiration. I’m a morbidly obese person whose bad decisions led to this state.” “I’m not worthy of being your inspiration.”

I started to craft a response that said I’m not someone to emulate- that I have too many weaknesses, I’m too flawed…” At that moment, I realized that inspiration is a very individual, personal experience. What right do I have to say that I’m not an inspiration? If someone can find inspiration in my words, my actions, or my photos, what right do I have to tell them they are wrong? In that moment I simply thanked God for the opportunity to inspire others.

I don’t write to inspire. I write because I really enjoy writing. If, however, it inspires you to look at a sunset, to buy a coffee for someone, to run a half marathon, to clean out your closet, or to bake a gluten free cake, that is a gift to me.

Find inspiration everywhere. The world is an awesome place. If someone inspires you, let them know. Don’t be afraid to share your accomplishments, no matter how insignificant you may feel they are, because someone somewhere may fin the inspiration to improve themselves through your example.

Every single day, you inspire someone to feel happy, or sad, or angry through your words and actions. Being mindful of that fact, choose to inspire others with love and kindness, with your positive energy and your lust for life.

You’re the inspiration.

Over the hill

Posted by BecomingBetty

I live on the south shore of Lake Erie. I’ve been in this town for 15 years, and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve never really explored it. I’ve lived here, but I’ve never really LIVED here before.

I started running in March. I use the term “running” loosely, as there is not a category for the pace I run at on My Fitness Pal or SparkPeople. When I told my doctor I had started running, I started to discredit it, saying, “I guess it’s more like slow jogging…” He stopped me and said, “Betty, if you’re not walking, you’re RUNNING.” I like his definition, and it’s the one I use when someone asks me if I’m “really” running.

I started on my treadmill. I could only run 1/10th mile before I had to walk, but I fought for those first miles. I soon progressed to the high school track, the parking lot at an Amusement Park, and a wooded trail at a MetroPark. All were very level.

Several weeks ago, I noticed a trail winding through a city park on the lake. I resolved to check it out. Last night was perfect. It was in the low 70s, with a beautiful breeze coming in off the lake. I ran the loop closest to the parking lot, and then stopped – there was a hill – and I needed to go down it.

I have injured myself in two falls in the last 20 years. The last fall resulted in 4 breaks, a plate and a whole bunch of screws in my left ankle. That hardware has been my excuse for not doing anything about my weight for almost a decade. At any rate, I am deathly afraid of falling down. The last time I fell down (I slipped on a wet spot on the deck), I wasn’t even hurt, but I screamed and cried like a baby because I was sure I was injured. Falling is bad.

I took little teeny tiny steps down the hill and got to the next level stretch, congratulating myself for not dying. Soon, though, I was faced with the fact that where there is a “down” hill, there is sure to be an “up” hill that follows. I trudged up the hill (okay, it was just a bank, but it was a BIG bank) and continued on my way.

The trail continued to wind through the park, over a bridge and sure enough – another hill. This one led to a path along the road. I froze. Roads mean cars, and where there are cars, there are people who might shout mean things at me out the window. (yes, it has happened to me). I considered turning around and going back the way I came, but curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to see where the trail ran.

I took a deep breath, and “ran” the hill the best I could. I was over the hill! I got to the top and ran the handful of yards along the road to the next “down” hill. There were cars. Their drivers did not honk the horns or shout at me. It was okay.

I proceeded along the path around trees, along the lake, and looked up. A dozen buzzards were trailing me. They sensed weakness. They circled. I ran some more. I looked up. Still there. The buzzards knew I was a goner. Obviously, they sensed my history with falls, and they were waiting.

I shook my fists at the feathered hecklers. If the cars on the highway couldn’t stop me, neither could a bunch of feathered carrion-eaters. I laughed. I charged down the next hill. I felt the blister form on my right big toe. I laughed some more.

I managed to make it around the trail 3 times. By the last lap, the hills were no longer something to be feared. The buzzards didn’t get me. I was sweaty, happy, and as I reached the end of the path, I was treated to the most glorious view of the sun descending toward the horizon…and the buzzards were still circling.

Like me, the sun was proudly going over the hill. Life is good.

I just want you to like me

Posted by BecomingBetty

Some time in the 90s, I read a book called “Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway” by Susan Jeffers. I’ve been meaning to go back and re-read it, because I found it very enlightening at the time, but now I don’t remember much of what it said. I do, however, remember her talking about how very much of what we do is motivated by our desire for people to like us.

I think that “people pleasing” falls somewhere on a spectrum between “I don’t care what you think,” and “I will just die if you don’t agree with me.” I’ve spent most of the past 40 years on somewhere on the latter end of the scale.

I’m my own worst critic. To be honest, when I receive a friend request, or when someone says something really nice about me on my facebook wall, I still sometimes wonder if they made a mistake. As a result, I don’t let too many people know too much about what I consider to be the “real” me.

I’m really shy. People don’t believe me, because I can talk to anyone. Talking is not the hard part – reaching out is the kicker. As a result, I don’t go many places or do much of anything, because I wait to be invited to do something by someone else. Last week I took a step outside of my comfort zone. I emailed two people who I knew primarily through my involvement in an organization that I recently left. I invited them to have lunch or coffee with me because I liked both of them a lot and I’ve been feeling kind of socially isolated without my club meetings to attend. One accepted and one did not.

I had a lovely lunch with the one who accepted. I shared some things about me that she didn’t know before, and I learned some things about her, too. I hope she had as fantastic a time as I did, but I have to admit that I’ve spent more than one anxious moment wondering if she’ll still like me now that she knows some of the private me instead of just the public me.

I’m sure I’m not alone in wondering,

Will they still like me if they know I’ve been divorced?
What will they think if they know that I suffer from anxiety?
Will they think I’m weak if I say I just can’t do it?
If I post this, will they think I’m just looking for attention?

This list could go on and on.

I’m on a journey to wellness which involves losing a very substantial amount of weight. For years, I cropped my profile pictures so that people couldn’t see the “fat parts.” When “friends” from other social media platforms found me on Facebook, where I had full-length pictures posted, several told me they had no idea I was a heavy person.

I’ve put off meeting people who played an important role in my life because I was afraid of how they would perceive me if they knew how fat I was. I’ve agonized over wardrobe choices because I was afraid of wearing the wrong thing. I had two full-blown anxiety attacks trying to get myself into the gym this spring to finally do something about my weight because I was afraid of what people would think of my king-sized self and potentially say something unkind (or think something unkind, look at me sideways, etc.)

I’ve censored my opinions on many timely issues on social media because I have friends on both side of the fence.

If I tell you how I feel about “X,” you may not be my friend.

I’m no longer as driven by the little voice that tells me I’m not good enough. When it makes an appearance I remind myself that a friendship based on a character I decide to play isn’t really a friendship. I haven’t been giving people enough credit. Worse than that, I haven’t been giving myself enough credit, either. I’m pretty cool. I really am worth getting to know a little better.

Banishing the “Yes But[t]”

Posted by BecomingBetty

Perhaps the biggest health hurdle of all to conquer is the dreaded “Yes But[t].” (YB)

The YB strips us of our pride, depletes our confidence, and worst of all gives us excuses to give up.

I thought I had all but banished the YB yesterday when it reared its ugly head. I started running in March of this year. I don’t move fast, but I move. Some weeks I move more than others. I moved a lot of miles a couple of moths ago. Then, life got busy and I hurt my knee. I still run, but I’ve been doing more other exercises, like walking, weight training and even some dancing.

A friend who follows my progress on Nike+ congratulated me for running 10 miles this month. 10 miles is a long way for someone who couldn’t run 1/10th mile without gasping for air and holding onto the treadmill a couple of months ago. I should have been shaking my booty and dancing, “10 miles, baby, 10 miles! Hear me roar!” Instead, I got a case of the YB.

Yes, but my personal trainer app says that I should have done 17 by now.

Yes, but in May I did 50 miles, and I’m way behind that pace.

You get the idea. Instead of celebrating my achievement (10 miles, WOOT!), I posted a big WOOT online, and then mentally berated myself for not running 17 miles, for not losing weight faster, for having a stride that’s too short, and for eating a gluten free pop tart for a snack. The YB got me,

The YB also helps us justify choices (like that pop tart). Yes, but I had a salad for lunch. Yes, but I ran an extra 1/10th mile.

I’m giving my Yes, But[t] the heave ho. I encourage you to do the same. When someone remarks on your achievement, say, “Thank you, I’m so proud.” When the YB creeps in as an excuse, ask yourself if what you want is worth delaying your goal. If it is, then enjoy it and own it.

just write what you know: taking that first step.

Posted by BecomingBetty

I’ve lived in my town for 15 years now. In that time, I’ve been mighty busy raising a family, going to school, and working at or running three businesses. Down deep, I’m a pretty private person. I’ve tried a lot of things. I’ve succeeded at some of them, and I’ve failed miserably at others. I’ve kept most of that to myself.

I don’t know why I don’t share more. Part of me thinks nobody else would be interested. Part of me thinks that other people will just think I’m trying to get attention. I’m always surprised when I write something and 40, 50, or 100 people “like” it and/or comment. Maybe it *is* interesting. Maybe it *is* okay if other pay attention. Maybe, just maybe, someone will find help, or hope, or strength, or joy in something I share.

I’m going to just start writing what i know. I know something about a lot of topics. As a “jack of all trades,” these are a few of my areas of knowledge, for better or worse:

Family: Marriage, divorce, raising a family, blending a family, losing family

Health: celiac disease, morbid obesity, weight gain, weight loss, learning to exercise

Spirituality: faith, loss of faith, searching for truth,

Mental health: psychology, psychobabbe, depression, anxiety, loss, learning to love myself

Cooking: gluten free, casein free cooking

Misc: laughter, spreading kindness

Currently, this blog has no one direction. As it progresses, I may find a path for it to follow. For now, though, I will just write what I know.

justwritewhatyouknowdotcom

#nofear

It’s a journey, not a destination

Because I’m Happy! (How a rock on a bench can make the whole day brighter)

You’re the inspiration

Over the hill

I just want you to like me

Banishing the “Yes But[t]”

just write what you know: taking that first step.