My step-dad rented a pontoon boat on our final day and we took it out on the Brownlee Reservoir and then onto the Snake River. We found a nice little cove and anchored the boat. Every one started stripping off clothes and jumping into the water. It was a hot day and the water looked divinely cool. Walker looked up and said, "Mama, let's go!" And I did. I stripped to my suit and dove into the water. Walker, buoyed by his blue life jacket, soon followed.
My step siblings are gorgeous athletic sleek babes, always first to dive in or climb on or jump off. I have fierce admiration for all of them. Last year, given this same situation I would have NEVER gone in the water. This year I'm more confident and almost 80 pounds lighter. As I look back at this moment, the question that arises for me is "Why wouldn't I get in the water at 280 pounds?"
Confidence? Yes. Embarrassment? Yes. But this was my family. Why would they even care? The fact is, they wouldn't care. They wanted me to enjoy the experience with them. And last year I would have denied myself and my son this thrilling, exhilarating experience because of my weight. I never realized what a prison my weight was. When faced with things like hiking or jumping off a boat, I always shrugged it off. "Oh, I don't want to go anyway. I don't like hiking. I don't want to get algae lake water in my hair. I don't care for fun, adventure or endorphins. Count me out. I'll just sit here and man the inanimate objects while you all engage in soulful recreational activities."
I wish I could whisper to my Bigger Sarah - the 2004 Sarah, the 2010 Sarah - and say "No one cares. They want your company. You need to nurture yourself. Just get in the water." What do they say about hindsight? Well, since I can't tell my former self, I'm telling you. This is the time to do it. Its time to do all the wonderful things that you want to do.