Stripping Down

"When were you happiest with your body?" the girl with the badge and toned body asked.

"Five years ago," I said.

The answer came out faster than I could've imagined, considering I didn't know the question was coming. I was wearing my favorite work out gear, and my hair was up in my cute double buns that look like antennae atop my head. I even had on a little tinted moisturizer and mascara, because if I think I look good, I have more confidence. This is true even when I plan to sweat my butt off.

Inside, though, I was shaking with nerves at the sight of the orange walls, loud music, and workout equipment. Where was the friend I had wrangled into going to this Orange Theory (OT) class with me? This whole "get fit" mission is one I had pursued before, but being alone with the clipboard questionnaire and fitness chick somehow made me feel small, though I probably was only ever bigger while pregnant. I felt silly and soft and vulnerable. Ugh! These are not my favorite ways to feel.

The instructor soon appeared, took me through the expected routine of the class and how to use the equipment. I saw my friend arrive, and I exhaled. Thank you, Lord! I would not be alone for the sweat fest part of this experience. I mean, I chose to do this and roped my friend into the deal (she was willing and loves OT, by the way), so why the heck was I such a timid mess? I was straight up dying inside.

I kept thinking about my answer to that question. Five years. What was five years ago?

I sweated and limped and sometimes squatted, ran, and rowed my way through the class. I hydrated, took a selfie and felt accomplished. I was also grateful for my friend who worked out next to me for that hour and made me feel like a star. She is a star.

The vision of myself five years ago kept haunting me, though. In fact, I was haunted for days. While pushing myself through a workout of my own design, it hit me as to why I was so much happier with my body back then. First of all, I should acknowledge the obvious thing - I weighed 30 pounds less than the trembling, awkward chick on the bench at OT. But there was more.

My view of myself and my life was different then. I lived in a place awash in gratitude. I had a 2 year old and 5 year old that brought me more joy and excitement than could ever be captured in words. I had a fire in my belly that burned stronger and longer than the Olympic torch. My "spare time" was spent running 5Ks and taking boot camp classes. My career was booming with opportunity and connections that made me proud and kept me fulfilled. My hubby and I were happier than a couple of newlyweds. I had purpose, goals, and drive to overcome whatever lay ahead.

These days...not so much. Why, Grace, why?

Happiness is a choice. And somewhere along the way, I started choosing other stuff. Like self pity. Like self doubt.

Silly as it may seem, I went and looked in the mirror. I made myself strip down - my clothes and my emotions. I looked at who I was right then in that moment - a tired, sad, overwhelmed, out of shape mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend, colleague and woman. This was not the person of five years ago, and this was not the woman I would be the next day. No more. No more. No more.

I ran into the reality of my choices so hard, I may still be suffering from the effects of whiplash. All the stuff that had happened to and for me over the past five years didn't create the woman looking back at me. I did. It was time for new choices and a new investment in myself. This couldn't be my trajectory. I had to be intended for more than this.

I had shown up at OT with the mission and mindset that I needed to lose weight and feel better - physically - for my 40th birthday. This was a good goal, for sure. But now, I am not only working towards a physically healthier version of myself, but also one that finds strength emotionally and spiritually and in her connections with others.

Lumpy, clouded, sad, and awkward are not how I wish to define myself or ways I would want anyone to see me. Therefore, it is time to choose joy, seek out my own happiness, and create a life I am excited to live each day. That may mean sore muscles and difficult internal dialogues, but growth and gains don't come from comfort food or comfortable places. They come from pushing past that moment when you think you can't go another step.

When you cross a finish line you never thought you could reach, you suddenly see the person you dreamed you were, but didn't know was there all along.