Clowns to the left, jokers to the right. Here I am...

...stuck in the middle.

(Ha. Now you get to have that running through your head all day.)


Seriously, though. I feel sort of stuck in the middle right now. I'm not what I used to be, but I'm not yet where I want to be. Most of you know that I started a weight loss effort last July. (No, I'm not calling it a "weight loss journey" because it's overused and trite at this point.) I set out to lose 75 pounds. Not because I could, but because I needed to lose 75 pounds. As of this morning, I'm still hanging out in the mid-40s. I've lost between 43-45 lbs, depending on when I weigh in. I won't deny that it's an accomplishment; quite the contrary. If you'd told me a year ago I'd be 45 lbs lighter and that most of my clothes would be too big, I'd have scoffed at you and given you a "WHATEVER!", most likely while holding up my thumbs and index fingers in the shape of a 'W'. However, I did do it. So, that's where I'm stuck in the middle.

I am stuck in the middle because of another factor. While doing my workouts at the YMCA, I see lots of people. I see different women who are different shapes and sizes. I see women who are much larger than I am and who probably resemble my own shape just a year ago. I also see the ones who are obviously very fit and trim and muscular. I am neither. I'm okay with being in the middle for the time being, though, because seeing both "classes" of women reminds me and motivates me to keep pressing on towards my goal. I see the larger women and it reminds me that I do not want to go back to where I was. I see the smaller, more fit women and it reminds me and motivates me to keep going. There's one lady in particular that I watch. She's rather petite, but she is fit and trim and muscular. She will get on the treadmill and R U N like a gazelle for an hour without ever slowing down or breaking her stride. She gets on the elliptical and pedals as if she's providing power for the entire building. I used to sort of look up to her and admire her. I nicknamed her "The Overachiever" in my head. Recently, though, I saw her doing one of her marathon elliptical sessions and watched her chug a Red Bull while doing so. My "hero" fell in my eyes and suddenly I realized that I want to do things the right way. The healthy way. I don't want to have to drink a Red Bull to buzz me through my workout. To help me clean the house, yes. But not to make me go longer on the treadmill.

For the time being, I am stuck in the middle. But, I'll keep pressing on until I lose this last 25 pounds. I'm more than halfway there and if I've made it this far, I can make it the rest of the way and not be stuck in the middle any longer.