Small Victories Win the War

Disclaimer: I’m going to go ahead and warn you – a lot of the things you read here will have to do with food, weight loss, and my journey with a healthy lifestyle because a lot of the things I’ve learned in the past several years have stemmed from me learning about myself through this process.

Now that we got that out of the way – I want to. . .rant is a bad word for it. . .discuss with great emotion?. . . about the things that a lot of people don’t highlight during a weight loss journey. Maybe they don’t think it matters – or you don’t think it matters to other people, but oooh girl! these are my favorite things to report to my friends.

Its time that you celebrate even the smallest things you accomplish. First of all, I am a person who always finds a reason to celebrate – so if you need help in that department, holla at ya girl! Second of all, the small things will keep you going on the days where the big picture gets a little blurry.

Its more than fitting into old clothes or seeing the number on the scale go down- which is fab-YOU-lous, by the way.

Its being able to sit with my legs crossed again.

Its sitting in a chair and not having my hips bubble over each side.

Its accidentally opening the front camera on my phone and not being completely horrified by the number of chins.

Its seeing an “off guard” picture (which obviously cant be prepared for by contouring my body and hitting all the right angles) and not wanting to erase every pixel before Google can trace it.

Its randomly touching your flexed (but still a little jiggly) stomach every hour to feel your newly strengthened core.

Its a hopeful and joyous smile in the mirror before your shower each morning that has taken the spot of a frown.

Everyone has their thing – that thing that used to be one way & now that their life has changed is different, but they don’t think anyone really cares – or that anyone would really understand. But trust. I promise I do.

I get excited that I hit my hip bone on the corner of the stair rail – because it used to be hidden under so much of my college days that I wouldn’t have been able to feel it.

…or going to the bathroom and seeing a little booty pop.

I could go on forever, but you get the point.

You win the war with numerous small victories in the battles – so celebrate them. Pat yourself on the back – get a mani/pedi – purchase a book you’ve always wanted to read – do anything but go backward.



Purpose on the Sidelines

When I came home from school and told my mom I wanted to play softball, I think she almost had a heart attack. But a few short weeks later, after tryouts, I remember the anticipation and excitement of finding out which team I had been selected to be on.

I didn’t really know what was in store – all I knew is that I was going to play softball and I was S T O K E D. I played, and I was pretty decent. I was selected for the All-Stars team for years and years in a row. I played throughout the summer with travel ball teams – I basically lived and breathed softball for 13 years of my life.

I loved the game. I loved the mental and physical parts. I loved the team aspect. I love, and still love softball. It was a huge part in my life, after all. But more than that – it revealed to me my purpose, and I didn’t even know it – until now.

Like I said before, I was pretty decent. I had numerous “clutch” moments in my playing career, I was consistent and in it for the long haul, and I put my all on the field. I don’t remember, however, ever being the “hot shot” or “star player” – but I was okay with that.

Not “okay” in a sense that I didn’t want to get better or strive to do my best with every play, but I never had that desire in me to outshine everyone else. Some people do, but not me.

My first high school season, however, ya girl had a perfect batting average. Yeah, you heard me – P E R F E C T. That’s because after the first tournament, I broke my ankle in practice. Yes practice. Insert eye roll. After hours in the ER and a trip to the orthopedic doctor the next morning, surgery was the verdict. Surgery on Friday morning. We had a tournament on Saturday.

I made it to the bus on Saturday morning- with the help of some pain relievers, but I made it. And I made it to every practice and game after that.

I don’t say this to brag – I say it to show you that when you are walking in purpose, your circumstances don’t stop you from continuing to walk in purpose. I wanted to be there – because, if nothing else, I could sit/lean and encourage my team to victory. I could speak life into their every play. I could lift them up (even if it was in a stern voice when they’re pouting) after a bad hit or missed ball.

During the rest of my high school career, especially on the varsity team, I wasn’t the one who always got a ton of playing time. Again – I never saw this as defeat. Of course, I wanted to be on the field playing as much as possible, but when I wasn’t I was on the fence. Encouraging. Uplifting. Speaking life into my teammates.

I had nothing to complain about – other than the umpires sad excuse for a strike zone. This is what I was made for. I loved playing ball more than anything – I still enjoy being active and competitive, but I found my groove – my purpose – on the sidelines.