Fifteen Hundred Pounds

I am really proud of myself.

For so many reasons.

But today, I am particularly proud of my body.

Not in an “I am hot” kind of way.

In the way my body has carried me through life.

Through being overweight since childhood.

Through four herniated discs and back surgeries so I could walk correctly and not live in constant pain.

Through three full-term pregnancies. Three C-sections in three years.

Through the traumatic delivery of my son, Max, who I never got to meet.

Through song and dance numbers on stage.

Through hiking to mountaintops and attempting selfies with mountain goats.

Through emotional and psychological storms that left me frozen.

This body has held my babies.

Worked my family’s legacy.

Swum with manatees.

Built businesses.

Stood at podiums.

Grieved in private.

Led in public.

And after this last year—

when eating was a struggle

and a short walk felt like torture—

I've been back in the gym.

Working with my trainer.

Moving through recovery, restoration, and creation.

Breath control.

Movement.

Conditioning.

Strength training.

Boxing.

Building and creating me.

And today, I lifted the most weight I ever have.

1,500 pounds in under ten minutes.

Not bad for a woman who had to relearn how to walk

and was told—

for the sake of her back—

to limit bending, twisting, and lifting for the rest of her life.

I am proud of me.