Last week, I was [ this close ] to stomping my foot and yelling like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum. But, then I realized it’d kinda hurt my darn ankle if I did that. Not to mention I’d look like the most immature 23-year-old ever.

Here’s the story: I was on vacation in Pennsylvania, visiting my family, and one morning my dad and I went to watch my little sister at her college cross country meet. I stood in the 60-degree morning light, clouds floating overhead, birds singing in the trees, people milling around excitedly waiting for the pack of runners to come by, and I was hit with so many memories of my high school cross country meets and how much fun I always had on that team. I loved the camaraderie, and I loved the running. Yet there I was, either sitting on the ground with my gimpy leg sticking out, or my dad hovering around me as I walked on the hilly course, saying, “Watch where you’re walking—if you hurt your ankle more, your mom will kill me!”

Well, yeah. I think I’d be pretty mad, too.

There’s something about just watching a running race that gets my adrenaline pumping and makes my legs jumpy and yearning to move. It happens every time. But usually, I can go home after watching the race, throw on some running shoes, and go for a run myself. This time, I was stuck being carted around by car—my dad wouldn’t even let me walk down to the finish line. (Which, I admit, was probably a good call. But still.)

Thus, Amanda wanted to enter temper tantrum mode. I was fed up with my gimp ankle.

I can proudly say that I sucked it up like a big girl and simply cheered on the runners, especially those lagging in the back. After all, that used to be me back in the day! I realized that sometimes it’s nice to be on the other side, cheering and urging people forward. I’ll consider it my payback for the many people who have cheered me on in my life.

And, I have to admit…not being able to run around all over the place during my trip may have hampered what I usually would be doing in the mountains of Pennsylvania. But, it also brought some unexpected fun, too. One day, my dad and I went to a year-round resort that we used to go to when I was a little kid. I have so many great memories of that place: swimming, running around outside at the foot of the giant ski slopes in the summer, playing mini golf and bowling with my sisters, kickin’ butt at air hockey in the arcade (those were the days)…

Up in the AirBut this time, because I couldn’t walk around too much, my dad and I were forced to do something different. It had just rained in the mountains, so there were fat, white fog clouds floating at the crests. The ski lifts seemed to disappear right into them. Now, I’m not usually a fan of heights, especially sitting on a giant suspended chair that hangs from a cable 50 feet above a naked ski slope. However, when my dad said we should go for a ride on the ski lift up the mountain, I decided, why not? It was so cool, riding up there with the brisk breeze that still clipped us just after the rain, the fog hanging thick over the mountain as we floated into it. And finally, as we sat up there in the damp air, a few sprinkles falling here and there, the lift beginning to slip into the foggy blanket—despite the chill, I felt completely calm.

I’ll get back on my feet eventually. For now, I’ll just enjoy the ride.

Fat Stats:
Starting weight: 166 pounds
Last week: 153.5 pounds
This week: 153 pounds
Goal weight: 145 pounds



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