No Finish Line
January 26, 2015
I had big hopes this time last year. I was going to get fit! Diabetes had taken all He was going to take from me in 2013! I was going to get back on track and return to the shape I was when I was at my finest…late 2010! (Late 2010 was about 14 months before Diabetes decided to crash the party). It was time to take charge!
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and that’s basically what happened to me. I tried. I meant well. Work stress. Tired from managing Diabetes. Other drama I don’t care to discuss. Getting and keeping people healthy is exhausting. Fatigue and life got in the way! But, instead of shaping up and losing a bit of body fat, I found more. 15 pounds to be precise. I’ve never been this heavy outside of pregnancy in my life! In the grand scheme of things, I realize it’s not too bad, but for me, this is wicked fat!
So, again in 2015, I have a mission. I want to lose what I found and get in shape for our fall 15th anniversary trip! It CAN be done!
I am working hard at making myself go to the gym. I have my gym trips planned, and I got a treadmill for Christmas to get a few extra steps in. I have a new puppy to walk. Last week, I was doing some cardio at the gym, cursing my mother and Jesus while I climbed the never-ending stairs! I was feeling quite sorry for myself, and I started thinking. You know…this is bull! Why can’t we work hard to get to a shape we’re happy with, press a button, and then it just stays there. Why does it require constant work?
As I continued the pity party, it dawned on me. Working out is not really much different from managing Diabetes. I can be in tip-top shape, but I still have to watch what I consume and make sure I’m changing up workouts and exercising regularly in order to maintain.
Well, Mr. Diabetes requires the same perseverance. It’s a marathon with no finish line. Ever. Every day, I have to watch what the boys eat. Every day I have to consider and adjust insulin rates given their meal, growth, season, activity level, stress level, etc. Each day I have to monitor them closely in my quest for the coveted Hemoglobin A1C in the 6’s. What? Why are you laughing?
Just like a number on the scale (or calipers) and how I feel tells me I’m doing great with my own body, that A1C tells me I’m doing good battling Mr. Diabetes and keeping a steady pace in the Diabetes marathon. You see, I have to. The only finish line is death, and I don’t plan to see that in my boys while I’m still breathing. Working out, I’ll never see the finish line. The only way I’ll see a finish line in either race is if I give up and quit. Quitting my fitness regime yields bad health and perhaps obesity for me. Not an option. Giving up on the constant vigilance that Diabetes demands yields bad health, complications or even death for my boys. Again, not an option.
So, pity party over. This is what I have to do. Nothing good comes easy. I’m going to make myself get back to my very attainable goal weight and shape…and maintain. When I have a bad day, I’ll start again the next day.
I’m going to continue to work hard, learn more, and be diligent with my boys’ care in the quest to keep them healthy. When we have a bad day, we’ll make adjustments and start over! I'm going to love the journey to help them learn to care for themselves and raise $ for those who can expedite better treatments and a cure! And maybe one day, I’ll see that A1C in the 6’s. *Stop snickering*
Such is my life.