Lately I’ve been thinking about the small things that show real change. Not the dramatic shifts, but the quiet ones that slip in when you’re not paying attention. The kind that only becomes clear when you pause and realise you’re not the same person you were before.
Today I went for a walk. Just my usual route, nothing new, but it felt different. Lighter, calmer, and steadier. And for the first time in a long time, I could see how far I’ve come, not only with weight loss but also with how I move through the world.
It had been two weeks since I last walked because life got in the way and I didn’t have the energy. But this morning I pulled on my shoes and went anyway. The path runs along an old railway line near my home, and it has two benches along the way, one halfway and one at the end. Those benches have been part of my journey from the very beginning.
When I first started, I couldn’t make it past the halfway bench. I would get there and sink down, my back screaming, sweat dripping, and my breath so short I felt like I couldn’t take another step. That bench was as far as I could go, and even though it felt discouraging, I kept coming back.
Over time I made it further. I would sit at the halfway bench, rest, and then push on to the end. Coming back, I would still stop again before making it home. Even when I was improving, the benches were still the safety nets that carried me through.
But today something changed. I walked to the very end without stopping, and I only sat for a moment at the final bench before turning back. There was no pain in my back, and the hill only left me a little breathless, but nothing that worried me. And it caught me by surprise because I could see the progress right there in front of me.
What made it even more special was that I noticed everything around me. There were bluebells scattered in the grass, wild garlic edging the path, and blossoms swaying in the trees. Birds called from the hedgerows, and I spotted a robin, and a squirrel darted across the trail so quickly it almost vanished before I registered it.
For once I wasn’t consumed by pain or fear or the thought of whether I could make it. I had space to look around, to listen, and to actually enjoy the walk. I even listened to music, something I usually can’t do because I’m too focused on just getting through. But today the songs moved with me, and I wasn’t rushing, and I wasn’t surviving step by step. I was simply walking, and it felt peaceful.
Since I began this journey, my weight has dropped from 173 kilos to 161.7, and that’s over 11 kilos gone. I recently increased my Mounjaro dose to 5 milligrams, and I still feel hunger, but the cravings don’t overwhelm me anymore. They rise and fall, and I can sit with them, and they pass. My energy feels steadier, and I’m sleeping more deeply, and without any difficult side effects, this part of the journey feels manageable.
Next month I have a day out planned. I’m going into the city to meet a friend, and I’m excited because last year I would have been dreading it. I would have worried about how much it would take out of me and whether I could keep up. But now I feel like I’ll be okay.
The path itself hasn’t changed. The benches are still there, waiting in the same places. But I am not the same person who once sat slumped at the halfway mark, convinced I couldn’t go on.
And that feels like a quiet victory worth noticing.