Addicted

My fitness journey has been going better than planned. 🙂 This is the first time I’ve been solely dedicated to changing my lifestyles; eating right and working out a majority of the days in the week. It’s really paying off. I’ve lost 9 pounds over around a month and I feel so much better.

I feel like I’m addicted now to working out and feeling good. I look forward to he number on the scale getting smaller and smaller. Not to the point of being unhealthy with it, but if I miss a work out I’m sad about it.

My mind and paradigm have shifted completely. I used to dread the thought of running, and used to worry about my pt test in the army because of it. It’s been hard to get back on track; my dad was my running partner. Ever since I lost him, it’s been a tear at my soul when I put my running shoes on.

We used to call each other with our workout plan. We’d both run at work during our lunch and call each other after. That’s how I knew where he was when he died. He went out for his afternoon run, and suffered from his heart attack right after he started. At least he died doing something he loved right?

Every time I stepped outside, I thought of him falling to the ground. Did he suffer? Did his life and family flash in front of his eyes? Was he in pain? All questions I’ve never have the answer to.

I can’t let the event hold me back anymore. He wouldn’t have wanted that for me anyway. He’d be yelling at me right now. I’d take it, and just keep pushing forward. I don’t know what took me so long to move on from that.

But I do feel better now. I’m on the right track, and he would be proud.