At this very moment, a frustrated, frightened middle-aged woman is standing on a scale in a state of disbelief.
She hadn’t dare climb upon it for years, afraid of the number she’d see — and terrified of what it would mean. Today however, after finding nothing in the closet that fits, the anxiety of not knowing overrode the faux safety of denial.
Her fears were realized.
As she continues to stare at the number between her toes, confidence is dwindling. Lost, she understands she needs to do something. She’s also not sure she can.
Today, a foreman will unexpectedly be put face-to-face with the unpleasant reality that he isn’t as young as he used to be.
Long ago, feeling uncomfortable in ever-tightening pants, he shifted from a belt to suspenders. After all, he didn’t need to buy larger trousers; this was a temporary situation. As a million times before, he’d drop those “few pounds” as soon as things “settled down.”
Funny thing, that; they didn’t, and his belly now is profound. Having not been witness to his toes in a blue moon, moving has become laborious, bending a chore, and breathing — well, it’s just not as easy as it used to be.
Before today’s calendar changes pages, in the midst of a frustrating conversation with a client, his shortness of breath will ramp up severely; he’ll begin sweating profusely, feel light-headed, and become unmistakably aware of an overwhelming pain in his arms and back.
The day will end not at all the way he planned.
Every day, a doctor enters a small examining room to face a patient sitting on white paper on an exam table.
Her son, daughter, son-in-law, and sister stand at the ready, on both sides and behind, each with a hand of support resting on her; all waiting to hear.
The white-clad physician places his laptop on the counter, pulls up a chair, and begins to deliver a prognosis he’d rather avoid. “The tests have come back…”
The patient won’t remember much after those words, too much to absorb. Her family will be her rock one last time.
Sometimes reality sucks.
Always, it catches up. We do not possess the luxury of waiting.
An executive who always runs late will set her alarm 15 minutes earlier. After reading the morning paper over a cup of coffee, she’ll get up from the table as she always does. However, this morning, instead of “breakfast” being a cherry pastry, she’ll scramble an egg. It won’t be a big step, but it will be the first in a series.
With a spring in her walk, she’ll stroll lighter on this day.
Weary of throbbing headaches and brain fog, a forty-three year old man will pour down the sink the remaining brown liquid from a bottle. It will take strength and the determination that will vanish in an instant – but will survive long enough to do the deed.
Afterwards, somewhere between fragile and empowered, he’ll grab his cell and reach out for help. Someone will reach back.
At lunch, co-workers will take short walks, encouraging each other in their quest for better health. Support groups are meeting every day. Friends are on the other end of the line whenever they’re needed.
Hope sometimes hides, yet it never abandons.
At each or any moment, there is renewed opportunity to initiate small change. Yes, it might be a long road, and yes, it’s only a beginning, but every habit starts tiny.
By the time you finish reading this, someone, somewhere, somehow will resolve to take a baby step; initiating a journey of success.
Shall we go too?
About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a nationally known weight loss expert for baby boomers and the CRP (Chief Recovering Perfectionist) of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com. Get his free ebook of motivational quotations and one year of his highly-popular Monday Motivational Memos at no charge by following this link. He is also available for coaching and speaking.