We all struggle with something in our lives. I believe we struggle with a mountain of things others probably don't even notice. Well, here are two things I struggle with: my heart and my weight.

For the majority of my life I could not exercise because of my heart, and so I became quite obese despite eating healthy. I was eating too much for someone who did too little (and was very small), and I tried my best not to eat. I thought the less I ate, the better I was going to be. Well, a few years ago I hit size 22. I don't do scales or pounds, so I don't know how much I weighed, but if you want to guess it I am 4 foot 11.

The reason I don't do pounds is I know someone who is an athlete will weigh the same or more than someone who is just fatty. The athlete has more muscle, and muscle weighs more than fat. Or at least, that is my understanding.

But this post is not suppose to be about facts regarding weight management, and how much one person weighs compared to another. That isn't important here. What is important, is that when I reached that size, I was told by my doctor my heart had finally healed from the trauma it had endured when I was four. Actually, he told me it was healthier than most people at my age! Can you imagine my surprise? I wasn't very active and I was told constantly that if you just lazed around then you're going to die young.

Which isn't necessarily true, but it is no contest on who has a better life - the ones who take care of themselves or the ones who don't? Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. I guess I was one of them in the health department, though I can tell you my life wasn't very fun. I had always wanted to run, or even walk quickly.

My doctor then told me something I didn't even know. I could have children. My heart would have gave out by the third trimester, and both me and child would have died. He thought I had known this since he told my mother, but she didn't tell me or my Dad, or anyone! It was good news, for sure, I just didn't know it was an issue.

So that was a really good thing to hear. If my body could go through pregnancy than I could begin working out, right? I could lose my inches, and finally be a size 6!
Unfortunately, you cannot combat 14 years of being told you cannot stress your heart by suddenly saying you can stress it out.

I tried in vain to begin an exercise program for the past three or four years. (I can't remember the last time I saw the heart specialist.) I would quit everytime I began since I tried to do far to much. For about a week I would do situps, pushups, and walking every day. Then I would stop because I was afraid my heart would give out. I knew the doctor had told me I could, but I was terrified of it stopping. I was frightened throughout my childhood that the stupid thing would quit while I was sleeping, forget when it was working really hard! I also quit because doing all that everyday when you hadn't done anything is extremely tiring. That is why you do it three times a week at the most. Walking you can do everyday.

I ended up in the hospital with the flue last year. I was told it was the regular flue, and I really had nothing to worry about from that. BUT, they kept me for almost a week. And it wasn't because of the flue. It was because I was so dehydrated, they put me on IV. It pumped water and salt into me constantly. I also had a dangerously low amount of, well, everything. Crash course!

This was a wake-up call for me. I had to shape up. I spent my whole life limiting what I ate and drank so I could be healthy. Now I was dangerously close to dying from doing so. Even though they were giving me so much, I had to drink, drink, drink. At first I drank only a little and the pickline did most of it. But as the week wore on I drank more and they slowly brought down the IV's amount it was giving me. It also had the unintentional side effect of giving me more exercise, as I had to run to the bathroom. I almost gave up right then, thinking, 'how can people live like this?!'. I was used to going to the washroom rarely.

When I got home I began small. I drank more. That was it. Then I slowly increased my food intake.

Two months ago I began to exercise. Nothing drastic. I walked up and down our driveway once a day. We live in the country, so this was a five minute walk. Not much.

But I steadily lengthened the walk. One round up and down the driveway, then two. Now I walk to the corner of the block and back to the house - a twenty minute walk, twice a day. Last month I added stretches to the mix, something I should have done at the get-go but I had what my dad calls a brain fart - you knew it should be done but it didn't occur to you that you should do it.

I was a size 22 when this year started. I was a size 22 two months ago. But today I am a size 18, a size I hadn't been since I was 18. I am now 23.

If you take anything from this post, I hope you take this : it is not too late to change something you thought you could never change. I thought I was to die very young from my heart. I feared I wouldn't see my late teens. No one had said this, I had just assumed. After all, how far can someone go if they can't even walk fast without fear of their heart failing? Now look at what I am doing!

I am losing my inches. But best of all, my heart is going to be stronger than it was. I plan on living a long time.