1/22/14 -- When I started attending QU I was focused on bettering myself, but I was not aware of how much that goal would encompass.
I am now beginning of my senior year, and I don’t know where to begin on just how much of me is better.
When I stepped on the campus for the first time, I stared directly at the ground. I was confident that the pavement would not confirm my fear of rejection, but looking up certainly could. Unfamiliar faces made me unsure of myself, and I feared my age would cause glances, but even more so, was my weight problem.
No matter how much confidence I had in my writing ability, I could never let myself see my potential until I fixed that. So amidst raising my family and a full school schedule, I started doing something that I would have considered crazy a couple of years ago.
I went on a diet and I lost 70lbs in a little under a year.
I started running too, and the track in the Fitness Center has become a haven for me. It didn’t start out that way, though. My first time there I was kissing pictures of my kids, because I was certain I would never see them again.
I didn’t die, though. I got better and better, and I keep doing the same. That is why I love fitness, because each day my only competition is yesterday. I do not have to outdo anyone except myself, and each time I do I grow (or shrink) a little more. I just have to keep telling myself to keep going, no matter how exhausted I get.
Running the track to self-improvement has been the theme of my time at Quincy University.
There are many nights I have had to tell myself to keep going as I study for another test or write another paper. Certainly there are days I have wanted to give up, and just between you and me, there are moments I did give up.
One day I was exhausted from attempting too-much homework in the time slot from the kid’s bedtime to my bedtime. This resulted in my not having a bedtime at all, and working through the night.
And of course that day it rained, and rained, and rained.
I sat in my car in front of campus, and I told myself I couldn’t do it. I miserably sat in there, ate a king-sized Snickers bar and cried right along with the rain. I didn’t go to class that day, and on that day I did not improve. I let yesterday win.
Still, that day was part of the journey.
After wallowing in exhausted self-pity, I gave the self-talk that I needed. I could do it, and deep down I knew how badly I wanted it. I marched in the building and I told my professor exactly what I did, and he laughed at my honesty. Apparently that is called a mental health day, and apparently I really needed it—along with the Snickers bar.
The next day, though, I got up and I got back on track, literally and figuratively.
Every corner I round and every task I complete is a mile in this journey, and as my feet hit the pavement I am no longer afraid of rejection.
When I walk the track at graduation, I will most assuredly hold my head up high.