Thanksgiving Morning when most people are in pajamas watching the parade, I have this view. For 2 1/2 miles I run up and down behind a balloon making sure it doesn’t crash into anything. It’s an awesome cockatail party introduction. I thought I was in decent shape Thanksgiving 2015 when I took out the Pillsbury DoughBoy for the 2nd time. It was a crazy parade that kept me on my toes, and I was wrong. As the one who runs balloon operations, I had to make 2 first aid calls, which required me running up 2 NYC blocks, both times I was totally winded. On top of it I take the center rope of the balloon when we deflate post parade, I couldn’t lift my arms Black Friday morning. Anybody who works in retail, will tell you that’s a recipe for disaster.
So after I recovered from that holiday season by escaping to warmth and actually sleeping for a week, I knew I needed to get myself into a gym. I started small, hell I could barely hold a plank with my trainer bracing my feet for 30 seconds. I was 34, and probably in worse shape than most women twice my age. I knew I had to make a difference quickly, I hated that I was popping Advil like tic-tacs. I was winded walking up 2 flights of stairs. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. By August the change was noticeable, 2 1/2 years later the scale hasn’t changed much, but I’ve leaned out and put on the muscle.
I hate that it took me this long to get to the healthier me. I’ve never maintained a loss more than 4 months before this. It really is about finding the balance that makes a lifestyle sustainable.