With a new high comes a new low...

At 37 years old I hit my all time high weight of 228.4 pounds, almost 100lbs more than I should be carrying on my 5'2" frame. I was sick and depressed, and couldn't seem to lose a pound.

A new YMCA opened a few miles from my house, and I begged hubby to buy me a membership. Somehow I just knew I could do it if I had the right tools. And if he dropped $800 or so on the membership fee, I would never hear the end of it if I stopped going, or did not lose weight.

My first few weeks going to the Y are kind of a blur, but I do remember the trainer who worked weekday mornings, JC. He was smiley and friendly...everyone seemed to like him. Little did I know how much of an impact he would have on me, and how tight a bond we would form.

For a few weeks, walking on the treadmill at 2.5mph was all I could do. 30 minutes had me sweating buckets and trembling. Looking back I have to smile at the old me. She has NO idea how far she will come, or what is in store for her. After 2 weeks I added a few of the strength machines at a time until I had a pretty decent routine going. Because I wanted so badly to make things work this time, I was at the gym 3-4 times a week. This caught the eye of the gym staff--not only JC, but the fitness attendants too.

Now that I have been a regular at the gym for 2 years, I am considered a fixture. A few weeks ago I was not able to make it to the gym for almost a week and everybody noticed. I have felt for a while that I have a "gym family", and I definitely felt the love when I went back ( from both staff AND other gym members).