When you assume something, you know what happens

This morning at the gym I attended an official Biggest Loser workout. They've got several times during the week where we're coached through different stations, including ab work, jumping rope, stability ball nonsense, squats with weights, and biking. And between interval circuits we get to do a couple of laps around the gym floor (which I have not done since I had a high school basketball coach on the sidelines talking through a whistle in his mouth: "beep, three more laps ladies...")

So I showed up like a good BL and prepared to sweat with the rest of the BLs, only there weren't any rest-of-the-BLs. I was the only one there. Great.

"Sarah" showed me to the room where our interval training was to take place. A room with mirrors on every wall. Every single wall. Did I mention Sarah's last name? It's Buffbody. Sarah Buffbody was wearing a very revealing but all-business workoutfit. As she demonstrated each interval I noticed how good she looked and how skillfully she performed each task with a smile and a steady voice.

So we set to work and she was very sweet and encouraging, but I could not keep from seeing my struggling reflection in the mirror at every turn. Ugh. So I tried to concentrate on myself instead of SB working quietly behind me and annihilating each station like a pro.

After the workout, she and I chatted a bit about the Biggest Loser contest, and I confessed to her that I had indeed lost a lot of weight at one time in my life.

"Really," she says, in that we-have-something-in-common voice. "I used to weigh 203 pounds."

So with one sentence, she put me in my place and she didn't even know it. She had worked extremely hard to get her body in that kind of shape, and was probably standing where I was standing at one time in her life. And not once had I considered the fact that her build was due to hard work and determination and persistence. I took it for granted that since she was so young, being in shape must surely be easy for her.

I know that good health is a journey and not a destination, and even when the contest is over in November, I will still have a long way to go before anyone dubs me Christine Buffbody. But for sure, the only way to get there is the route Sarah took. No other roads lead to where I'm going.