A lot can change in 7 weeks.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
7 weeks ago my head was foggy, my eyes blurred as my alarm rang out in the darkness that accompanied 5:20 in the morning. 7 weeks ago dragging my sleepy body out of bed, in what felt like the middle of the night, felt like torture at best. 7 weeks ago I left my house into the dark and frigid night air. 7 weeks ago I pulled over to admire the moon laying full and heavy in the sky. 7 weeks ago my teeth chattered as I walked the long outdoor hallway to the pool all while trying to convince myself not to just turn around and go home. 7 weeks ago I struggled while I swam my first few laps since last fall, huffing and puffing and sputtering. 7 weeks ago I lived for the weekend when the gym wouldn’t see my face.
7 weeks later, my body is already waking before my alarm rings out. 7 weeks later by 5:20 the sun has already made an appearance and the birds are cheerfully singing. 7 weeks later the walk to the pool, still cold, no longer makes me shiver right to the bone. 7 weeks later, 40 laps comes relatively easy, my arms and legs accustomed to the motions required for front crawl and breast stroke. 7 weeks later my lungs have adjusted and my oxygen levels stay 90 or above (most of the time). 7 weeks later, my arms show clear signs of definition and toning. 7 weeks later my hair is dry as straw despite wearing a swim camp. 7 weeks later I weigh 3lbs more than when I started, which I am convinced is muscle mass. 7 weeks later my body craves my morning swim. 7 weeks later I dread the weekend when I don’t swim because my cough will be more prevalent all day long. 7 weeks later I am proud of myself for fitting this missing puzzle piece back into my self care plan.