In the last 18 months, I've been on a health and fitness journey that God willing, I intend to stay on for the rest of my life. It all started with wanting to drop 10 pounds, but it's turned into a lifestyle. It's been hard and painful and I've definitely struggled along the way, but where I've come from is nothing less than a miracle as far as I'm concerned.
I think that the best part of my journey is all of the wonderful friends I've made along the way; friends and instructors that have loved and encouraged me to strive to be the very best Katy that I can be. One in particular is my favorite cycle instructor, Becky.
Becky is not just a fitness instructor. No, that's just not a fitting description for this wonderful woman. Becky is an angel of an encourager. Becky is the queen of visualization. Becky wants you to succeed. Becky helps you believe that you can and will not only get through the class, but you will be better because of it. I'm so grateful for Becky!
The funny thing about cycle is that it is my least favorite fitness activity. It is so hard and arduous for me that I literally have to talk myself into keep going when I'm in class. I'm talking minute-by-minute, I have to keep telling myself that I can keep going and complete the 55 minutes that I'm there for. There are so many times that I want to jump off that bike and make a run for it, but I stick it out. Sometimes I could scream because it's so hard. I've even wanted to cry under the pressure. But I grit my teeth and I push through. Why? Because I know that the temporary pain and discomfort pales in comparison to how it would feel if I quit. Because I know that I will have that much more life to live and to give to my precious son and loving husband. Because I feel more alive and more at peace when I cycle or run or do anything that takes care of my body. I do it because it's worth it.
Life is tough sometimes. It's hard and arduous and you feel like giving up. There were days over the last 5 years, especially right after Robert died, that I didn't think I could go on. There were days that I couldn't make it out of bed. There were days that I had to take minute-by-minute just to make it through. But I did it. Not always with grace and dignity, but I did it. There were times that I cried and screamed and was so mad at God, but I never gave up hope that it would get better, and it did.
I'm not saying that I still don't have my moments, but it's worlds away from where I was five years ago. I have not arrived, but I'm grateful for where the Lord has brought me and I look forward to where He's taking me in the next five and beyond.
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