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  • Writer's pictureRachel Bennett

I do it for her.

I tend to think about random things while I’m on the treadmill.  Maybe it’s the hamster wheel effect of just staring at the same thing while you walk miles and go absolutely nowhere. And today was no different.  Just a few hours ago I was doing a little jog/walk while attempting to zone out to music, but I couldn’t zone out.  I was thinking about meal prep, workouts for the week, if I took my supplements this morning, … all the things.  And then the mindless rabbit trail began when I started to question why the heck do put so much energy into all this annoying healthy crap?  Because honestly, some days that’s what it feels like.  Some days I wake up and think, “I’ve got to get up and go take my stupid pre-workout and my stupid supplements and go lift stupid weights and eat my stupid protein….” You get the picture.  I might think this way more than just some days. 

Don’t get me wrong.  Some days I do enjoy the routine and I look forward to going to the gym, but sometimes it’s another story.  I promise, this isn’t going to turn into a rant about discipline over motivation.  I’ll talk about that another day. 

When I think about all that I’ve done over the last 8 years to get where I am now (and even further down the road) I am baffled.  Why have I done it?  Who am I doing it for?  And I went back to that first phone call to a trainer friend because I was desperate to figure out how to change. 

That girl that had no clue how to work out, how to eat, and how to even talk to herself in a kind way.  I do it all for her.  That girl that was scared out of her mind that she was going to die young.  I do it for her.  That girl that watched her mother fight with obesity for years and then finally lose a fight with cancer.  And because of that promised her family that she wasn’t going to go out like that.  That she was going to get healthy so she could stick around to see her grandkids grow up.  I do it for her.  The girl that was told that if she didn’t make some changes in her weight that she would likely develop diabetes or heart disease… or both.  I do it for her. That girl that hid behind humor or thought that she was only valued because of what she did for others.  The girl that wasn’t sure that she could be loved the way that she deserved.  I do it for her. That girl that spent over thirty years yo-yo dieting and would cry with frustration when she tried on clothes.  That girl that was scared to go into a gym for fear of looking like a fat idiot.  I do it for her. 

I do it for her because she’s worthy of being made as much of a priority as everyone else in her life.  Because by doing that she can serve more and serve in bigger ways than she ever thought possible. 

Every day is a challenge and every day I make choices.  The best days are when I remember her and make choices that I know she would want me to make.  Like the choice I made to start drinking more water and exercising.  And the choice that I made to hire a health coach so I could understand how to eat better and lose weight.  The choice that I make to count my macros and learn how to give myself grace.  The choice that I make every day to try living a healthier lifestyle than I ever knew was possible for me. 

That girl is me.  Not me today, but the girl I was then.  And she would be shocked at the progress I’ve made.  And she would be so grateful to know that I’m still trying even when it’s so hard to try.   She is my “why”. 

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