beBetter 

I am back out on the jogging trail for my second jog this week. My legs are a little weary from the four miles I did yesterday, so my first mile is a scorching 13:43. I walked a little to warm up.

It’s cloudy today, and the skies are looking stormier by the step. I’m getting close to the end of mile two, as I glance down and see I’m averaging 13:14 pace when the first raindrops hit me. I’m making the turn and heading back, as the bottom literally falls out. It feels like someone is dumping buckets of water on me as I jog (trudge) back for the final two miles.

Earlier this year (in a pre-COVID time of travel), I was casually walking down the airport terminal in Austin, TX, on my way to Gate 23 as I glance to my right and see Amy’s Ice Cream. Positive, disciplined thoughts are flooding my mind as I try to focus. “Don’t slow down, don’t look at the menu board, don’t look back.” Ice cream is one of my weaknesses and I need to stay disciplined so I can reach my weight loss goal.

As the summer progressed, I felt myself losing some steam—my energy was too low. As I reflect on it now, I was having a few stomach aches along the way. Oddly enough, when I felt some abdominal pain, I would eat more. Sounds backward but I have always tried to eat my way through feeling bad. CeCe laughs at this every time and has been known to call me an idiot for doing so. (Please, no comments. I realize it might not be the best strategy.) So I am rocking along, eating my way through the pain, until my abdominal pain increased to the point that one Sunday evening I found myself curled up on our floor trying to ease the pain. That night I became violently ill. Thinking it was just food poisoning, I worked from home a day and then returned to work. But I knew something was wrong when I still felt weak and experienced the same abdominal pains.