Eight Years and Counting

Eight Years of Exercise

Eight years.

That’s how long it’s been since I stood in front of the mirror aghast at the marshmallow shape my body was taking.

Eight years.

That’s how long it’s been since I tied a worn pair of running shoes to my feet, drove down to the local high school and discovered I couldn’t even make it once around the track once without gasping for breath.

Eight years.

That’s how long it’s been since I decided to change my life, cut out soda and junk food from my diet, and get myself in shape.

The results of eight years of hard work?

I can run with Marathon Girl for an hour (pushing a double wide stroller while I’m at it), bench my weight (a big accomplishment since my body came with almost no muscle mass), do over 100 sit-ups without breaking a sweat, run 7:30 miles without getting tired, and am extremely happy with the way my body looks. (As is Marathon Girl.)

But the best part? Running into people (no, not literally) that I haven’t seen in roughly eight years who don’t recognize me because of the changes to my body.

Yeah, that last part is the icing on the cake.