Over the last couple days, I’ve been contemplating on how far I have traveled through my fitness journey. From being at my heaviest 190+ pounds years ago to now at 157 pounds. I’ve read so much fitness and diet books, blogs. I’ve purchased many exercise programs and equipment. Joined gyms, hired coaches, took privates, seminars, workshops. Traveled to ride, race and run. It has been quite the ride.
I’ve reached several goals with my biggest last year of reaching 160 pounds. Even before I started working on my goal, I knew I was going to reach it. And when I successfully reached my goal, it was going to be awesome. I could already visualize it clear as day. When I woke up the day that I reached my goal of 160 pounds, it was just as any other day. Quite boring actually.
I expected the world to stop and parade around me. I wanted to be showered with rose pedals falling from the sky when I walked in public. Strangers stopping me in the food aisle at the grocery store to congratulate me, pat me on the back and tell me how great I look.
None of that happened. You reached your goals, maybe crushed them. So Fucking what. The worlds marches on. Time to set new goals. And repeat…
Sit back and enjoy the process, the journey. Who knows where it will take you. Only one way to find out.