How I Became an Athlete (Without Even Trying To)
Welcome to Sacred Musings, a space where I share reflections from the heart on love, life, caregiving, and the lessons that shape us into who we are. My hope is that these words bring comfort, perspective, and inspiration to anyone walking their own path of healing and growth.
December 2023 felt like a breaking point. I had just wrapped up a home health nursing assignment and was sitting at 260 pounds restless, uncomfortable, and unsure of what to do next. My knees popped every time I shifted my weight. I had prediabetes, hypertension, and I was wearing a size 20. On the inside, I felt invisible and depressed.
I had tried many things to lose weight, and nothing seemed to work for me. Then, of all things my son noticed a large bald patch and suggested I try the same kit he bought to grow his beard. His beard was flourishing, and I thought, “Why not?” That little nudge opened the door. On the website were options for weight loss. I had tried many other tricks and hacks to lose weight and felt I had nothing else lose by giving the medication a try under a doctor’s supervision.
Not long after, I took a new nursing assignment in the Bay Area and stumbled into an old connection that reopened wounds I thought I had closed. What I believed was a sign from above turned out to be an extremely painful lesson in emotional manipulation. My mental health spiraled. I had so much nervous energy to burn, and I needed somewhere else to put it.
So, I walked.
I bought a treadmill, set it up in front of the TV, and started walking every single day. Ten thousand steps became my ritual. The weight started to come off sometimes a pound a day. The treadmill wasn’t just exercise; it was therapy. It kept unhealthy relationships off my mind, gave me control over my restless energy, and gave me a goal.
Walking turned into jogging. Jogging turned into running. I ran my first pair of shoes down to nothing and bought new ones. I built a running wardrobe. I joined the running culture. And somewhere along the way, I became an athlete.
Transformation Along the Way
This wasn’t just about weight loss. It was about reclaiming myself.
I lost over 100 pounds.
My prediabetes, hypertension, and joint pain began to ease.
My face transformed. My body transformed. My spirit transformed.
I no longer needed attention from others to feel attractive. I felt it within myself.
Alongside running, I found outlets in art and self-development workshops. I immersed myself in healing spaces, community, and practices that deepened my self-awareness. Those experiences opened me spiritually, while the treadmill opened me physically.
And then came the biggest affirmation of all: training under a legendary local running coach who calls me an athlete. Me, the woman who once thought she could never shed the weight, who thought she’d never run a 10k.
The Truth Behind It All
Here’s the irony: I set out to lose weight partly because I wanted to look good for someone else. But rejection became redirection. Had I been “accepted” in that relationship, I believe I would have been emotionally drained. Instead, that pain pushed me inward and helped me uncover a strength I didn’t know I had.
I didn’t become an athlete out of intention. I became one out of survival, out of restlessness, out of wanting to feel alive again. And in the process, I found not just fitness, but freedom.
Where I Am Now
Today, at 50 years old, I run 5–7 miles most days of the week. I’ve run a 10K and am training for my next. I’m proud to say I’m not just active I am an athlete.
I didn’t plan it, but I embrace it. Gladly, gratefully, fully.
Sometimes we don’t step onto a path because we’ve mapped it out in advance. Sometimes we stumble onto it out of pain, restlessness, or the desire for change. That’s how I became an athlete not through a grand plan, but through small, consistent steps that carried me forward when I thought I couldn’t move anymore.
Maybe you’ve been walking through something heavy, too. Maybe you’ve felt invisible, stuck, or like you’ve been living in a body or a season that doesn’t feel like your own. My encouragement is this: start with one step. Then another. Healing, strength, and even joy can grow out of places you never expected.
You may discover, like I did, that you’ve become more than you imagined. You may even discover that you’ve been an athlete or something else extraordinary all along.