Author: Sanya Bird

Tomorrow (aka “Talk Like a Pirate Day”) is my birthday.  I feel like I have been 44 for a while already, even though I have yet to actually achieve the age.  Yes, I believe 44 is an age to be achieved.  And it didn’t come easily.

I started this journey at the ripe young age of zero.  I remember when I was in elementary school, calculating how many years before I had to be a grown up.  One, I hate math.  And B, as long as that number was huge, I felt relief.  Now I lay in bed in the morning, calculating how many minutes I have until I reach the point of no return and have to get up.  As long as that number is huge, I feel relief.

I will be 44 tomorrow, and I still have no significant desire to be a grown up.  Being an officer in the Air Force, it seems so unfitting.  Youth is really wasted on the young.  In my mind, I’m starting to get ready to be in my mid-20’s.  I actually feel pretty good physically, with the exception of the arthritis flair-ups and occasional hot flashes. I am training for a half marathon in 19 days.  I run an average of 100 miles per month.  I’ll tell you right now, my 20-ish self would not dream of doing such things. So take that, 20-ish self!

I used to think my life was so blah.  I used to think I had not done anything notable.  But I got stuff!  I have been an Airman, NCO, contractor, and officer in the US Air Force.  I have an Associates, Bachelors, and Masters degree.  I am a dissertation away from a Doctorate degree.  I squeezed three humans out of my body.  I have lived overseas.  I have traveled to most of the states in the US.  I have repaired electronic and medical equipment for a living.  I have been an instructor and an administrator.  I have gained (and lost!) 30 pounds.  There’s other stuff.  I’ve just forgotten a bunch of it because I forget stuff now.  There’s not as much stimulated grey matter between my ears to retain everything, you know!

I enjoy life for the most part, even though there’s lots of sucky stuff in between the good stuff.  I miss my dad, whose birthday was the day after mine.  I wish he was still around.  I’d make him some tacos.

So, happy Talk Like a Pirate Day, everyone!  I’ll be checking IDs at the gate in the morning if you travel that way.  Feel free to wish me a Happy 44th!

In September 2016, I stepped on the scale.  After about the third time, I actually looked at what it said.  178 pounds.  I’m only 5’2″, and the last time I carried a human being in my body was almost 9 years ago.  I have a job that requires a decent level of physical fitness.  I guess I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten because I stopped looking at myself in the mirror at some point. 

Being overweight in the military is the equivalent of having leprosy…No one wants to associate with you because it doesn’t matter how nice, how smart, or how amazing you are at doing your job…you are damaged.  You cannot be an outstanding military member, all else being absolutely stellar when you are overweight and struggle with physical fitness.  (And anyone who argues with me on this point has probably not been overweight in the military.)  Countless military members are provided their walking papers because of physical fitness/weight related issues.  And on the other side of the coin, physically fit military members who are less capable of doing their jobs get to stay.  I’m not saying that all military members are either fit and dumb or fat and smart, nope, not selling that line at all, so keep your panties unbunched!

Back to my story.  I purchased this book called, “Lose it now, lose it forever”.  There was nothing particularly revolutionary within the pages of this book, but it was the right thing to finally flip a switch in my brain.  First of all, I figured out that I had actually been lying to myself that I was doing everything I could to try to lose weight.  I made some serious changes in my food intake, both what I ate and how much.  Second, I stepped up my exercise…seriously stepped it up.  EVERYTHING that keeps you from moving is an excuse.  I walked on a video game controller and tore my plantar fascia…that put me back a few days, but since I couldn’t run, I walked…got on the elliptical…did squats, crunches, anything…arm circles, for crying out loud!  Whenever I finish my workout, I always shout out, “Good job, Mama, good job!”  For some reason, it gives me a mental boost. 

I have lost 25 pounds so far since mid-September, and I’m about halfway to my goal weight.  It has been and will continue to be work.  It has been and will continue to be sacrifice.  I am committing myself to take advantage of this opportunity to be who I want to be.  I have been the only one in my way.  I have said things like, “Well, I can lose some weight, but I’m never going to have 6-pack abs…I love to run, but I’m not built for running, so I won’t ever be very fast…I can do better on my PT test, but I’ll probably never score over 90…”  To myself, I now say, “Just watch me.”