I have always looked longingly after others who do what I can only dream. They inspire. They humble. They discourage. My reaction to their success reveals where my true heart lies.
It shames me when I am incapable of celebrating the achievement of a friend, or when my first reaction is jealousy rather than joy.
Gratefully, I am starting to realize the blessing of those special few who have made good on their intentions. They motivate me without manipulating me. Their hard work does what it should and pushes me to reach my own goals.
I have no burning desire to run, cycle and swim through an Iron Man competition. I just want to run a whole mile without inducing medical distress.
I don't need to be the same size as my naturally lithe and winnowy friends. I just want to be fit, to cease pulling at my clothes to hide my bulges and gaps.
I would hate to be a body builder. I do want to turn these stealth muscles into visibly toned power.
I call this blog "A Different Kind of Happy," because I want to chronicle my attempt to fall deeply into the person I am - not the person you are, or anyone else is.
This is happiness in the work of fitness, family, faith and fortune, and it is fully mine.
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