Often I'm faced with the question: "How can you know how it feels to be over weight, haven't you been fit all your life?"

Though it might be a bit surprising, I too have struggled with my own battles with being overweight.

Yes, it's true, I was very active as a child and even competed at a high level in the sport of gymnastics during my early and late teens. However, similar to many people I know, as soon as all the coaches were gone and the team was no longer there to motivate me, I was left with me, myself and all my years of bad eating habits. My body had no other choice but to respond to what I was doing to it.

Between bad eating habits and little-to-no exercise and did I mention a job at a local pizza joint, I was doomed to suffer the dreaded weight gain game. Over 50 lbs to be exact. Yep, I went from a tumbling gymnast to an overweight young adult who could barley go up a flight of stairs without gasping for air. How could this happen? How could I let myself go like this?

I did everything I could to lose the weight. I tried all the fad diets, Starve yourself one day, over-eat the next, cut the sugar out, no fat, no carbs etc, etc… I even went to Jenny Craig (lifetime membership). However, nothing seemed to me working. I just couldn't figure out why my body was not responding to anything except gaining weight. My body seemed to have a mind of its own and it was determined to sabotage all my efforts. It was clear that I had a battle on my hands and it wasn't going to me an easy one. I tried to convince myself that I could live with the extra weight, it wasn't all that bad, maybe this was the way I was supposed to be. But, I know deep down inside that it wasn't true. In my mind and in my dreams I kept seeing myself as healthy fit person, I knew it was still inside of me just dying to get out... but how?

Finally, one day I realized I just couldn't allow myself to continue like this, I had to do something about it! No more excuses, no more quitting, it was time to wake the athlete back up! I dug through an old box and found a pair of workout sweats that someone had given me along the way. The sweats didn't quite fit the way I had remembered but I was sure not about to put on a pair of shorts. I then mustered up the energy and courage to make it out the front door. The goal was to get to the park that was only 2 blocks away and I figured how hard could it be? I could make it! Heck, maybe I could even run? It took less than half a block to realize that I wasn't going to make it to the park by running so, I quickly slowed my pace and started to walk. I was determined to make it to that darn park even if it killed me. From that day on I set a goal to make it to the park - again and again each time going just a bit further. Before I knew it I was walking a mile, then two miles.

Shortly after I started this venture I had moved back to my hometown in Southern Oregon where my mother had just take up jogging. She would call me each day and drag me out to jog with her. With her encouragement we would run further and further each week. Several months later she had asked me if I would train with her to run a 10K (a 6.2 mile road race for those of you that don't already know). By this time we had worked ourselves up to about 3 miles and I figured this might be a great goal to shoot for. After about 2 months of training the morning of the 10k arrived. I was so excited!! I can still remember the butterflies in my stomach as if it were yesterday. There I was in my new running shoes I had gone out and bought the night before, race finishers T-shirt with the bib number pinned to the back, and a very full stomach from the breakfast that was supposed to give me all the energy I thought I needed to get through the race.

I was the prefect example of what not to do on race day. Needless to say, it only took 2 miles into the race before my breakfast decided it wasn't going to stay down and ended up all over my new running shoes and t-shirt on the side of the road. Several of the race volunteers came to my rescue and offered to take me back to the finish line. As tempting as it was, I knew I had to finish that race. Out of over 400 people I believe I was one of the last 10 people to cross that finish line. At that moment it didn't matter if I was first, last or somewhere in the middle. I finished!!! Oh, what a wonderful feeling to cross the finish line!! I realized something for the first time that day. The race to the end of your goal is not always going to be easy. But crossing that finish line is well worth all the work. It changed my entire outlook on my quest for weight loss. I was motivated more than ever to win the weight loss race and I wanted to bring everyone along with me.

From that day on, I've continued to educate myself, challenge myself and put myself to the test so that I can help others experience that feeling of "crossing the finish line," to achieve their own goals for the very first time.

It's not easy! But that is OK! Nothing good ever is. And you have me to hold your hand until you cross your own Finish Line!!