“Feel like giving up? Remember why you started. What’s your why?” -Fitlosophy Calendar
I need to make a confession. I’ve been holding this one tight to my chest for several years and it just needs to come out……… I deleted the last picture that was taken of my Dad and I before he passed. I deleted it because I thought I looked fat. There is no way to fix or undo what I did. The picture is gone forever.
As I sit at my desk, typing my latest confession, I notice a saying on a motivational calendar my Daughter bought me for Christmas, “Feel like giving up? Remember why you started. What is your Why?” In my past life as a sales manager, I loved to determine what my potential new hiree’s whys were. I would ask questions and pay close attention to their reactions. If they showed discomfort, anxiety, or better yet a teary eye, I knew I found someone who would stay motivated when times got tough.
From that thought, I quickly switched gears from the memories of my former new hirees to myself. What is my why? Why have I been trying to lose weight? I felt a teardrop on my cheek before I could even start typing the words. The memory of my ‘why’ is still crisp… knowing travel and fine dining are my Daughter’s love languages, I took her to the mountains and made reservations at a picturesque restaurant with beautiful views. The traffic took a little longer than expected and we were both starving by the time we got there. I went to the bathroom and my daughter headed straight for the buffet. When I came out of the bathroom I noticed she didn’t get me anything. I asked her why she didn’t get me anything in my hangry voice. She responded with, “Mom, I never know what diet you are on.” The tears started flowing and I couldn’t even look at her. What type of example was I setting for my Daughter? Was I negatively impacting her body image? How could she respect me?
The next memory of my ‘why’ surfaced; my Dad and I had spent the week in Maine on the lake with my kids. It was a wonderful trip with perfect weather, great beach time, good music, and roaring campfires. We returned home to my house in Boston to prepare for his flight home in the morning. My Dad was in a very talkative mood and told me stories about his childhood and mine until 2:00 AM. When I finally stood up and said I needed to go to sleep, he stood and kissed me on the head. “Pooh (my childhood nickname), you need to lose that weight”. I stood speechless. He must have felt my shock because words just started flowing from his mouth. “You know you are beautiful either way, so you don’t have to worry about that. We don’t have to worry about your Husband, because God knows he loves you.” I quickly recognized the look on his face he made when he was choking back tears, “for Dad, please”. He went in for a second kiss on the forehead and his tear rolled off his cheek and onto my forehead. My Dad flew home the next morning and passed in his sleep unexpectantly a few weeks later. For all practical purposes, I consider my weight loss to be his dying wish.
So, What about you. What’s your why? I would love to hear it.