I had someone complement me after I finished one of my sets at the gym this morning. This still surprises me when it happens, because in my mind, I'm still the Fat Kid.
I'm still the one whose mom shopped in the husky section for my Toughskins jeans. The one that was invisible to strangers, never noticed for my look. The one who had to do other things to get noticed - play the saxophone, play sports, try to stand out in the classroom. The one whose struggle with weight continued well into adulthood. The one who had 230 pounds into a 5'5" frame until just 3 1/2 years ago. The Fat Kid.
I've worked hard to change my outside appearance. Strangers who see me today don't know anything about The Fat Kid. Sometimes I wonder if my inside will ever completely match the outside. I don't think so...but that's OK. The Fat Kid keeps me (somewhat) humble. He never lets me get complacent. The Fat Kid never experienced the sense of entitlement that outer beauty sometimes fosters. He's a workhorse, not a show horse.
The Fat Kid sees this new life as a gift. The Fat Kid appreciates this brand new car (this new body) he's driving and wants to ride it 'til the wheels fall off!
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