When you meet someone with your same similarities, it is intriguing. I hear myself in her story. I see myself in her at the

gym. I understand her determination. I know what it feels like to own my race. And, I know all too well the struggle with self-image.

Everyone has a story. Tami came to me about running the St. Jude Marathon. We discussed concerns, nutrition, the how to, the what works for you and how to stay injury free to get to that finish line. When she left my office that day, there was never a doubt in my mind that she wouldn’t see that 26.2 finish line on December 2, in Memphis TN. She ran HER race.

Tami is an inspiration to many and has her hands in many extracurricular activities in our community. She continues to be a better her in every aspect of life. This is her choice and we all profit from it.

Here is to you Tami… May we all have a little less “What if…?” and more of a “How will I?” approach to life. You are a marathoner!

Love you much,

STRONG -MitziMy Fitness JourneyNo better time to contemplate and document one’s fitness journey than 11pm the night before your first marathon, right? It’s not like I can sleep at this point. So many ‘what-ifs’ swirling through my mind. ‘What if I oversleep?’ ‘What if it takes me longer than the six hour max?’ ‘What if the bagel I’m packing gets squashed?’ It’s crazy how I can be so excited yet so nervous. EEEEEEK!My path to a fit and healthy lifestyle has lots of peaks and some definite valleys. My family history of heart disease is quite scary and plays a HUGE role in my desire to live a healthy life. Both of grandfathers died in their early 40s of heart attacks. My dad had a heart attack at age 42 (thank you Jesus for a successful angioplasty and no further issues). I have a cousin and a sister with early onset hypertension requiring medication. I struggle with high cholesterol that typically stays controlled with diet and exercise. For me, ‘healthy’ doesn’t mean ‘skinny’. My story references weight, as it’s surely important, but health is about so much more. I can’t CHOOSE my family history, but I CAN choose a healthy lifestyle. In my opinion, it’s all about choices.I grew up in the sweet, small, Cajun town of Bunkie, Louisiana, population 5,000, in a time where there was little focus on a healthy lifestyle. Rice and gravy, some type of smothered meat and an endless supply of buttered bread were staples in most homes. Unless of course it was fettuccine or étouffée night. My mother and I had regular heated ‘discussions’ because I hated gravy (blasphemy) and rarely ate meat. I preferred fresh and light to those heavy foods. It was unheard of in her world to have salad as an actual meal. I often felt guilty because she was (is) an amazing cook and worked hard to provide those home cooked meals. However, I also realized that what I put in my body had a lot to do with how I felt. For me, heavy foods meant feeling sluggish; whereas lighter and fresh choices left me with lots more energy. It was up to me to choose how I felt.It was around that same time I discovered aerobics. Think early 80s—bright colored leotards with equally as bright tights, leg warmers and, yes, terry cloth headbands and wrist bands. My junior high posse and I would regularly get all Jane Fonda’d up and walk the mile or so to the Haas Auditorium (beautiful now, not so much then) where someone taught aerobics/step aerobics several times a week in an old, run down room with no air conditioning. We may have done it more for the cute outfits than the health benefits but, hey, whatever it takes, right? While I had been a competitive tennis player until that point and wasn’t ‘new’ to being active, I fell in love with exercise in that building. It was fun! I understood almost immediately that just as food affects how I feel, so does exercise. The more active I am, the better I feel. It was up to me to choose.I continued to exercise regularly throughout high school, became a Certified Aerobics Instructor and taught classes at a local gym during college. I simultaneously managed to successfully gain the dreaded ‘Freshman Fifteen’. I was still exercising but had consistently given in to unhealthy food choices, a little too many adult beverages, not to mention very poor sleep habits. I felt gross. Being overweight was just not for me. At 19 years old, I knew it then as much as I know it today. So that summer, I focused on healthy food choices and portion control (thanks Weight Watchers), continued exercising and lost those extra 15 pounds. I chose it and worked hard and it happened.

I kept those pounds off for about eight years. I was in really good shape—running, working out with weights, going to classes at a gym, etc.. I was super excited to find out I was pregnant. From the beginning, I had such good intentions of eating healthy and continuing to exercise throughout my pregnancy. Intentions. You know what they say about intentions. Yep, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” And I went to nutrition hell. I had only ONE craving during my pregnancy (it’s still my go to junk food, along with donuts)—McDonald’s quarter pounder with cheese, no onions, supersized fries with a Diet Coke. I cringe while typing this but the truth is I ate that every. single. day. of those 40 weeks. I think if I went to the McDonald’s close to West End on Vets in Metairie today, they’d still know my name. It’s no surprise that I gained a whopping 50 pounds. 50 pounds on my 120lb body is a bunch. Honestly, I didn’t even care. I was fat and happy and going to be a mom! In August of 1998, I delivered a beautiful and perfectly healthy baby girl. Four weeks later, at my OB follow up appointment, I weighed 145lbs. For some reason I was in shock. Why hadn’t I lost more weight? Doesn’t all the excess come off with the delivery? (Sarcasm). I’m supposed to weigh 120, not 145. I was no longer fat and happy. I remember thinking, I have two choices—keep doing what I’m doing or do something different. Accept it or change it. Oh I was changing it for sure. I had lost those 15 pounds in college and was determined to lose these 25. I got seriously focused on healthy food choices, started exercising again and within three months, the weight was gone. I chose it and worked hard and it happened.I remember making a decision somewhere around that time that I would use my birthday as a ‘weight check’ every year. I have a goal weight of 125lbs—not because I care so much about that number but because that is the weight at which I FEEL the best. I know that about myself. I’ve listened and learned over the last four decades and know what works best for me. So you can bet real money that on July 2nd of every year, my weight is in check. That doesn’t mean I get ‘fat and happy’ during the rest of the year, it’s simply a time to get ultra focused if needed. I really encourage everyone to have some personal ‘check point’. I hear so many people talk about how their extra weight ‘just crept up on me as I’ve gotten older’ and ‘won’t go away no matter what I do’ and ‘just wait til you’re MY age’. True. False. False. Our metabolisms DO slow as we age but we CAN do something about it. And we don’t automatically get fatter the older we get. (Otherwise, all 90 year olds would be like really large and I’ve yet to see an overweight 90 year old.). We just have to work harder and smarter, unfortunately, to maintain that healthy weight. We have to choose it.I CHOOSE to set my alarm for 4:30am be at the gym early enough to get a workout in before going to work. I CHOOSE to skip those break-room donuts even though they’re my favorite. I CHOOSE lots of things I’d rather not because my heart and my body are important to me. I’m far from perfect and fail miserably often but, thankfully, God’s mercies are new each and every day and I get to choose again. My choices won’t work for you. Because they are for me. Neither will Mitzi’s choices. Because they are for her. But everyone has choices—what are yours? Make them!

In case anyone wants an update to my opening paragraph—I completed my first marathon! I didn’t oversleep. And I finished under my goal of the 6 hour limit with two minutes to spare. Some may be disappointed with a personal time of 5:57:44. Not me. I’m owning MY slow pace, owning MY race. I ran 26.2 miles, had a blast and have the same finisher medal as those with much faster times. But most importantly, my bagel was intact and a perfect snack at mile 15. All that worry for nothing ????