365 days ago I couldn't walk to my mailbox without stopping. Today I crossed the finish line of my first 5K. I cried the whole way through and I don't care who knows. 🏃

A year ago I was 312 lbs, pre-diabetic, and my knees ached walking from the couch to the kitchen. I was 34 years old and I felt like I was 70. I had stopped looking in mirrors.

My doctor didn't yell at me. She just quietly said: "If nothing changes in two years, we're looking at insulin." I drove home, sat in my car for twenty minutes, and cried.

I didn't join a gym. I didn't hire a trainer. I walked to the end of my driveway and back. That was it. Day one.

Some days I didn't even make it that far.

But I kept going. Driveway. Then mailbox. Then the corner. Then the block. Then two blocks. I downloaded a Couch to 5K app four months in. I repeated weeks constantly. I walked most of it. I don't care.

Today: 47 minutes and 23 seconds. Dead last across the finish line. A volunteer with a silver emergency blanket put a medal around my neck and said, "You showed up. That's everything."

I've thought about that sentence every day since.

Down 67 lbs. A1C normal. Still crying about the medal. If you're at day one: the driveway counts. Start there.