My life has done a 180 since I first started Unwritten about 7 1/2 years ago.  On New Year’s Eve, I spent some time looking back through the years of posts and recalling those moments now documented on an internet blog.  It’s been a crazy ride.  

But underneath all the excruciating pain of days gone by, I think I always believed I would get to this place.  I was living through a terrific storm, and I just needed to hold on until the wind subsided and I could see more clearly and get my footing.  Sometimes it seemed like it would never be over.

I hope I live to be 100 years old, because the first half of my life was so chaotic and everything is flying by so quickly; I want to spend the next 50 years being happy.  And in my next life, I want to start out happy from the very first breath.
Coach and I had a good workout week.  Holy Arm Day was outstanding, and the rest of the week felt more settled and “normal” after the craziness of the holiday season.  These months and months of training with him have shaped my mind and my soul in addition to my body.  I’m so much stronger now – he always says that, and it’s true.  My body is stronger for sure.  My mind is stronger and (most of the time) doesn’t yell at me quite so much anymore.  My heart has grown into a super-sized love-pumping miracle.  
On my 50th birthday, I must have been ready – finally – to shed the final layers of the ick I’ve been carrying around with me in the form of flubber.  I won’t go into all the details that led me there (trust me, it was a fucking miracle) but I ended up in a Weight Watchers meeting, and it’s been just one more fabulous thing that’s happened to me this year.  
When I consider that I’ve run about 3,500 miles in the last 3 years and that I ended up gaining weight (no – I wasn’t all muscle) I realized again the tremendous power of a food addiction.  Being fully accountable for everything that goes into my mouth is critical.  The weight has been melting off, week after week, slowly and consistently and honestly, without much effort.  
All of the hurt feelings and dysfunction I’ve carried around in my hips and thighs and muffin top and arms and… have held me down like a slave with a ball and chain.  I don’t need it.  I don’t need to hide inside of the fat suit anymore.  It’s safe to come out, to be myself, and leave the fat suit behind.  I simply can’t run enough miles to compensate for filling my life up with shit. 
So here we go, 2014.  
In my vulnerability, may I learn how to trust more completely, Love more deeply, and leave Fear on the floor.  And some really great sex would be nice, too.  

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