The Best Things: Pride

I suppose I should start this blog by saying that these blog posts aren't in any particular order. When I started thinking about writing this blog, I knew I wouldn't have a hard time coming up with best things from Thanksgiving to Christmas, but as I started writing them, I knew that I wasn't going to be able to prioritize them or number them as to which one is most important to me. They are all important, but there really isn't a specific order I would rank them in, no matter how many higher order thinking skills I would have to use to do it. :)

Of course, since I've put that disclaimer, I am going to say that this one is pretty important and thus it is a very difficult post to write. I've been starting and deleting and restarting for almost 15 minutes now and I haven't gotten any further than this.

When I was 16 years old, I worked at McDonalds with a lot of other teens, a lot of whom were smokers. I like to believe that I wasn't influenced by peer pressure, but frankly, I have to admit that I was. One night, when I snuck out of the house, I went to McDonalds to hang out with my friends after work and had my first cigarette. I didn't really like it. The taste was horrible and it made me cough. However, with the stupid determination of a teenager, I stuck with it and became completely addicted. I went from smoking one or two a day to sixteen years later when I was smoking a pack a day. I knew it was unhealthy. I knew it could cause cancer. I knew it was stupid. I knew that my then boyfriend, now husband, hated it. But none of that stopped me. I convinced myself that smoking calmed me down and made me an easier person to be around. That's not to say that I didn't try to quit. I think there were four attempts that failed in many different spectacular ways. Finally in December 2003, I realized I was getting ready to reach the point where I would have been smoking more years than I hadn't been smoking and I knew that I felt horrible more days than I felt good. It was time for me to stop. I made that decision. I hated the idea of quitting. I knew it would suck! I bought nicotine patches, went to my doctor and got on medication to help, carried small pieces of straw in my car so I'd have a crutch, and broke all sorts of routines for my daily life. And I was right...it sucked! I was sure it was the most difficult thing that I would ever do. I was so proud of myself for doing though. It gave me such a great feeling to know that I had done it. Hearing the pride in Vince's voice when I told him that I had quit was amazing! I knew I had done something great and held my head up for having done it! I had times when I wanted to start again, but I held strong and didn't cave. Now, nine years later, it still makes me smile when I realize what I did and how strong I was to do it. I am still proud of the change I made and it makes me feel good to know that I broke free of my addiction.

I'm sure at this point, some of you are wanting to remind me that this isn't a blog about quitting smoking. It's a blog celebrating the best things that have happened since I made this set of changes in my life and have started living healthier. I promise, I'm getting there.

In April 2012, I decided it was time to start making changes again. I was tired of being tired all the time. I was tired of having only certain clothes in my closet that I could wear without being uncomfortable. I was frustrated with the fact that I was in such poor physical condition that walking up and down the stairs at work took my breath away. I was tired of being disgusted with myself when I saw myself in the mirror or tried to take a good picture. I was ready to make a change. I started simple and easy because I knew it wasn't going to work if I tried to do too much at once. The first day, I decided I was going to walk around my neighborhood twice. The first time I walked, I thought I was going to die. I was out of breath and sweating like crazy. However, I knew that I could do it. I knew this was something I had to do. I started working on portion control and eating out less, because, honestly, we had gotten in the bad habit of eating out two to three times a week. Small steps. None of these steps were easy. Some of them were really tough. But I wasn't going to give up. I knew that it was something I needed to do. Now, seven months later, I know I won't die when I walk a 5K or longer and that sometimes I can even run. I can't remember the last time we ate out during the week. I'm about 74 pounds lighter than I was when I started. And...I am so proud of all that I have accomplished. When I look in the mirror, I see that pride reflected back in my smile. I feel that pride when I climb the steps at work without any problems (unless I had a really tough workout the day before and my knees are stiff...but I'm still not out of breath). I feel that pride when I cross the finish line in a race that I never would have believed I could have run. I see that pride when I look at myself in a new smaller outfit or clothes that I haven't worn in years which are getting too big already. I hold my head high and carry myself with the pride that I feel. I'm not disgusted with myself anymore. I'm really proud and even more determined. I also know that I was wrong when I thought quitting smoking was the hardest thing I've ever done. Making healthier life choices is definitely the hardest thing. But the hard is what makes it great, what gives me this sense of pride.

I know I'm not done with journey. I still have things I want to accomplish and milestones that I need to meet. But I'm taking the rest of this journey with pride in what I have accomplished so far. Pride that this is something I have done and am still doing. Pride that I was able to make such a huge change in my life. I'm proud of myself and I have to tell you, it's the first time in a long time that I can say that. And I don't want to go back and I won't let myself.

Thanks for staying with my through this post. I know it rambles a bit. Until tomorrow, I'll keep moving on my journey with pride in myself.