A little over a year ago, a dear friend of mine treated me and a select few to a weekend getaway. I was floored. While I have been the recipient of a few gracious gifts in my 43 twirls around the sun, I had never been exposed to an experience on this level.
It was AMAZEBALLS!
Everyone was assigned to their own suites at a posh hotel. We shopped, we drank, we fellowshipped, we discussed future goals and plans. We got in our feelings and experienced revelations…
I took several things away from that trip.
First, life’s abundance is more than a financial grab. It’s human relationships, nature’s beauty and terror, simple shit like a hot coffee on a cold day or a cool breeze when the sun tries to best itself in the summer.
Second, I have a lot to offer the world and I need to stop overthinking shit and just put one foot in front of the other and give what I’ve got until the ‘more’ kicks in.
Third and perhaps most important, I needed to get serious about losing weight.
I’m in the fight of my life. The trouble is, I’m fighting against myself.
If my thighs could talk, there would be too much to say. The inner would always be predisposed to how the outer feels and vice versa.
The plane ride on my most recent trip had my outer right thigh singing a gruesome lament thanks to the seat handle digging its metal frame into my leg. I may as well have had a dagger stabbing me in that very spot. It couldn’t be helped though. The lady next to me in her kindness and tolerance prevented a double entendre by allowing me to raise the divider between us. I kept to my seat as best I could.
My body begged for relief, but relief was 45 minutes away. It was the longest 45 minutes of my life. I tried to fall asleep to numb my pain receptors and the self-conscious thoughts plaguing my mind. Barely 10 minutes later, I awoke to an unbelievable smarting of my entire body. Even my knees protested the seating arrangement.
I held back tears of joy as my thighs were evacuated from this hellishly idealistic seating arrangement and we exited the plane.
Plane rides are now a litmus test for my weight loss journey. Aside from screaming thighs, belt extenders (the shrinking length needed and, eventually, the need to NOT ask for one) are a pretty good gauge for non-scale progress.
I gotta get away!
Travelling had been a cumbersome eye-opener as of late. The subtle and not-so-subtle inconveniences of my weight make the fat cells grafted to my body feel larger than life when I’m in transit.
Even my feet have joined the taunt parade. They haven’t felt like rocks since I got my carnival cherry popped back in February 2005. That trial by fire was only eclipsed by the euphoric feeling of joy experienced. But after three days of feting and 37 hours of playing mas, my feet more closely resembled the asphalt I stood on than the skin on my body. They required a full 48 hours of elevation before they found a proper reset. But I digress.
I did my best to stay in the moment and enjoy that trip. The excruciating pain and frequent discomfort my body produced had other plans.
Sleeping in a 5-star hotel should have been a wonderful experience and it was but, I also know it would have been infinitely better if I didn’t have to turn over every 45 minutes because my legs lost the elevation they desperately needed thanks to me kicking pillows off the king-sized bed.
Shopping should have been a leisurely activity instead of a sprint to alleviate the weight off my legs.
Let your spirit fly…
As the discomfort became insurmountable, my mind began to shift. Only I hadn’t realized it just yet. The pieces were finally falling into place I had to pivot the way I fought this battle. This war called weight loss finally got the internal spark it required from me in December 2022.
I’m not a fan of change but I respect and embrace it fully when it must happen. And that’s what I’m doing now. In the words of Lizzo, it’s about damn time.
I did two things to help with the shift at the beginning of 2023. The first? Begin investing in first-class seats. More room for my thighs means better trips and better piece of mind. The second? Be intentional about my journey, incorporate a daily prayer for consistency and discipline and take a radical step by incorporating intermittent fasting into my routine. The third? Get the fuck out of my comfort zone.
Boy did I ever.
I left home. Literally. I took what you may consider a sabbatical from working in 2023. I bought a first-class ticket to visit a friend and spent six and a half months travelling through the United States and Canada.
My travels gave me the opportunity to get on 12 flights. Each one a first-class seat. The first 11 required a belt extender.
Those very travels meant that I wasn’t stationary. For a person who is most at peace when things are steady and flowing, the constant change in scenery and shifting from one person’s home to another was an assault on my psyche.
That discomfort, however, kept me focused. It allowed me to look forward to goals with shorter life spans and attempt to achieve what I thought was unthinkable – losing 30 pounds in one year.
I hadn’t realized my progress until I was headed back home. I flew into my country in first class, the same way I had left, with one change – no belt extender was needed. Sure, the original seat belt was maxed out, but I felt comfortable. Content. Happy with my ‘big hair, don’t care’ volume and frizz.
I came home in a great head space and lighter than I had left.
I was grateful, thankful and blessed to have experienced the journey I had taken, and the lessons learned along the way. I was most grateful for the path that I’m currently on that finally allows me to see this weight loss as something that can and will happen.
I can’t wait to see the result.
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Song: Fly Away
Artist: Lenny Kravitz
Album: 5
Release Date: 1998
