It's not the destination, it's the journey....

... in so many ways.

No secret that I have some wellness challenges. Diabetes, and a weird form of it no less, for one. My BMI (eg, my "weight") has been high - all my post-adolescent life. Even when I was smaller and fitter than I am now, I was "overweight" according to "the charts". Adding to things, as I age, I'm starting to show the signs of some familial glitches that come up in my ancestry - the aches and pains of osteoarthritis, a tendency to "put my neck out" way too easily, sleep problems that lead to chronic pain and a vague diagnosis of "fibromyalgia", and oddly disturbing possible autoimmune problems. I'm adding signs of insulin resistance to the fact that I'm insulin deficient - making me a rarer (but slowly growing) breed of diabetic who is both Type 1 and Type 2 at once.

It's really tempting to just write myself off and sit around and take painkillers. Admittedly, right now I just popped a Robax or I won't get through my day to my 2nd workout.

Yep, that's the point - my 2nd workout. I also teach fitness classes, and some pretty tough ones at times. This week, being release week at GoodLife, I have a heck of a week. 6 workouts between this morning and Thursday evening, though some will be lighter than others. I went this morning to catch some of my superstar colleagues kicking off the new release before I have to team up with a buddy for it tomorrow. Tonight and Wednesday, I teach my own class of the current program before premiering the new one. It can be tough - working out hurts sometimes. But I find not working out hurts worse, quickly, so I try to ride that line between just enough and not too much.

I got a little boost to my determination today, as I ran into a morning class (always a challenge) with an increasingly spasmed shoulder (always inconvenient) and worsening headache. I caught the eye of a member at the gym, and got a big smile.

This lady must've been 75 years old, at least. Maybe older - when you're active and happy, it's hard for me to tell, people just look "older than me" or "younger than me". This woman was older, but who knows how much. She looked like a tiny, round, Russian granny. She was wearing a long, calico skirt. Big baggy socks. An oversized sweatshirt, and a kerchief tied over her head and under her chin. The outfit would have been completely appropriate standing out in the barnyard with a milking bucket. Except for one thing. She had bright, shiny, white crosstrainers on, and was doing a determined job of showing the treadmill who's boss. While I pounded away on my steel wheel in the bike studio, she marched along. She finished her hike after at least 45 mins, I think, and when I walked out of the studio, she'd switched to some of the circuit machinery and was gently but steadily working her shoulder, and chatting away with some other women in the club. It was beautiful to see, especially since this was at a co-ed club where women sometimes don't feel as welcome as in womens-only facilities.

I couldn't stop smiling and had to share why with my colleagues working the desk - they were grinning as well. What an inspiration for everyone.

I hope I've got that kind of life in me at that age, and I hope I can keep in mind why I do this. I'm not elite, and never will be. I'll probably not see a single-digit clothing size, ever. It's not about my weight or my BMI. It's being able to keep my feet under me, and my legs steady, lift my own loads and keep some of those other, more important numbers (glucose, cholesterol, blood pressure) back where they should be. The goal is not the goal. The goal is about keeping going. It's the journey.