For the past three February's, we’ve attended a large (300 plus) party, compete with a huge potluck dinner and band. In the past, I’ve left by 8:30, stuffed from food, feeling ill, and usually on the verge of a panic attack.
This year, I was hungry an hour before the party, so I ate dinner at home. When we arrived, I wasn’t hungry, so just glanced at the long line of homemade food. (No exaggeration - when 300 people all bring a dish, there is a HUGE amount of food. The tables lined one entire wall of the hall) There were a few meat dishes and veggie dishes I could have sampled, but eh, I wasn’t hungry anymore. My husband enjoyed two platefuls, while I had some seltzer, and was perfectly happy. There was a plateful of cupcakes, brownies, and other sweets in the center of the table - I glanced at them, then noticed them no more than I did the silverware and napkins.
A couple hours after the dinner was served, I was watching a nearby group, and thinking how different my life is now. They each had platefuls of munchies and desserts, and passed them between them, exclaiming how yummy everything was. I’m not judging them - in the past that was me. That was how I enjoyed parties. That was what a party meant to me… how many different yummy foods were there to gorge myself with. I thought I was having fun.
This year, I danced every fast dance the band played. I was barely out of breath. I wasn’t overheated to the point of wondering if I was going to faint. People I knew came up me and exclaimed about the difference in me. They didn’t mean the weight, even though in the last seven months I’ve dropped 5-6 sizes. They meant the spark. They said they had never seen me so happy and having so much fun. Even my husband, who sees me every day, said he had never seen that expression on my face before. He said my face was lit up like a teenage girl at a high school dance. And honestly, that’s what I felt like. I was me again. I wasn’t paralyzed with embarrassment anymore. I wasn’t locked in that prison of fat. I had energy…I could move… I was having FUN!
This morning, I’m not even sore (thank you Zumba for the conditioning!) and the glow is still there. Welcome back, life. I missed you more than I even knew.
This year, I was hungry an hour before the party, so I ate dinner at home. When we arrived, I wasn’t hungry, so just glanced at the long line of homemade food. (No exaggeration - when 300 people all bring a dish, there is a HUGE amount of food. The tables lined one entire wall of the hall) There were a few meat dishes and veggie dishes I could have sampled, but eh, I wasn’t hungry anymore. My husband enjoyed two platefuls, while I had some seltzer, and was perfectly happy. There was a plateful of cupcakes, brownies, and other sweets in the center of the table - I glanced at them, then noticed them no more than I did the silverware and napkins.
A couple hours after the dinner was served, I was watching a nearby group, and thinking how different my life is now. They each had platefuls of munchies and desserts, and passed them between them, exclaiming how yummy everything was. I’m not judging them - in the past that was me. That was how I enjoyed parties. That was what a party meant to me… how many different yummy foods were there to gorge myself with. I thought I was having fun.
This year, I danced every fast dance the band played. I was barely out of breath. I wasn’t overheated to the point of wondering if I was going to faint. People I knew came up me and exclaimed about the difference in me. They didn’t mean the weight, even though in the last seven months I’ve dropped 5-6 sizes. They meant the spark. They said they had never seen me so happy and having so much fun. Even my husband, who sees me every day, said he had never seen that expression on my face before. He said my face was lit up like a teenage girl at a high school dance. And honestly, that’s what I felt like. I was me again. I wasn’t paralyzed with embarrassment anymore. I wasn’t locked in that prison of fat. I had energy…I could move… I was having FUN!
This morning, I’m not even sore (thank you Zumba for the conditioning!) and the glow is still there. Welcome back, life. I missed you more than I even knew.
7 months with Julie - sorry for the blurry picture - I was in a hurry to go out! |