2026 and Beyond: I Didn't Come This Far to Only Get This Far

Content warning: This post discusses body dysmorphia, imposter syndrome, substance abuse, and other intrusive thoughts. If these topics are sensitive for you, please feel free to skip this post.

Well, blog. It's been a minute. New year, new age. 2026, and 37. When I started my journey, it was 2024 and I was 35. And while it still feels weird to say the following out loud, I've come so far since then. Woof, I actually felt writing that in my body because I'm still so used to not taking up space and being "humble."

But... it's an honest assessment. Another aspect of my brain I still don't trust, because for so long I was unable to be honest with myself. Now I can be. And I've come far there too.

That said, I'm still not where I want to be. And I'm afraid of resting on my laurels. Colleen, my therapist, would say that it's great to have goals -- but I'm approaching them from a negative view instead of a positive one (and if you know Colleen, you know that she possesses this irritating yet amazing gift for making even the worst of situations positive, somehow! Thankfully, she also understands my sense of humor.). She'd also say that it's important to give myself credit for how far I've come instead of exclusively focusing on what I still want to achieve. I don't think she only means that in terms of fighting food noise, losing weight intentionally, and getting in shape -- something tells me that applies to all areas of life.

So, we're going to make Colleen happy today, and look at how far I've come, and how far I still want to go. Because... I didn't come this far to only get this far.

When I was 35 in 2024, I had given up. I don't need to recap my resume of diet plans, I've done that enough. But I'd resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't getting any healthier. I was so far from fit that I didn't even know that becoming fit was anything I desired -- it felt that far out of reach. "Trying" was too taxing -- and what I didn't know at the time was that the reason for that fact was food noise. There was a cause and effect that was never made known to me. I dragged my body and brain through my overly scheduled life, doing what I had to do to ensure that I was taken seriously regardless of my appearance.

Ultimately, I'm proud of 2022 through 2024 Gracie, because she refused to sit still, even at over 300 pounds. And when I say "over," I don't mean 301 pounds. I did my best to not give in to both the physical and mental limitations that came as a result of my extreme obesity. I visited Disney and flew on planes with the help of my old, trusted friend -- the seatbelt extender. I held my nose and closed my eyes through my wedding dress fitting -- and through my wedding itself, as the pain throughout my entire body once the reception was over was prolific enough to make me take three Advil. I didn't want to be limited, but limitations were my reality.

37-year-old, 2026 Gracie, has a very different life. Same husband, same primary job, some of the same freelance gigs, same church choir, same apartment, same therapist, same interests... and a lot of new ones. Same friends... and a number of new friends, too. And same exhausting schedule that is busier and... more fulfilling?

Even with consistent exercise taking up more time in that already packed schedule, I have far more energy than I did previously. I have my four-legged baby now, who has shown me a kind of love I never thought I'd have in my life. And I'm no longer limited; I can reach the bottom shelf of the dishwasher without discomfort. I can sit on the floor and stand back up without assistance from Anthony -- getting me up from the floor used to be an event. I can shave my legs in the shower without having to sit in the bathtub. And... I finally ran a 5K without stopping. I can run an 11:36 mile. I'm signed up for a four-mile race in February (def going to walk SOME of it though).

But I'm not done. In previous attempts to right the ship, I always stopped. I didn't understand at the time that I stopped because my food noise could no longer be surprised by extensive mental gymnastics. For years, I just stopped, and then I stopped altogether. However, knowing that I am no longer stopped by food noise -- and food noise was the culprit of my giving up early in previous attempts -- helps me to realize that this time truly is different. Food Jail is no longer a factor. I eat like a normal human being.

I've tasted freedom and now I want more -- and I have so many goals to the point that I have goals I don't even know about yet. Because... I didn't come this far to only come this far. This in-between stage is admittedly a bit tricky; I am struggling with body dysmorphia regularly. I have sizes 1X, 2X, and 3X in my closet. In some brands, I wear a standard size XL or XXL, while in others, I need a 2X or 3X. I know I'm in the best shape of my life, but I'm not where I want to be.

As someone who notoriously focuses on the negative, it's difficult for me to acknowledge progress at this stage. The fact that I'm "not done" is still glaringly apparent. In my workout with one of my personal trainers this week, I moved up to more difficult exercises than I'd completed in earlier sessions -- sign of progress, right? But, I could not deny how winded I felt after the workout. I know that feeling means that the workout did its job, but feeling out of breath was enough to transport my brain back to the memory of old Gracie walking up a flight of stairs. In the same vain, box jumps are difficult for me; I hear the thwack of my loose skin apron belly every time I jump. Yes, again, a good thing -- a year and a half ago, nothing would have moved because that gut area was so tight. But that thwack is a loud reminder of what used to be.

All of this stream of consciousness to say that I still have imposter syndrome when it comes to fitness. I still don't trust that I really belong. At the same time, fitness has become part of my identity. Addiction transference might not be the most healthy coping tool, but workouts are far more beneficial than, say, binge eating or alcohol abuse. Imposter syndrome in the gym or on my running routes, and body dysmorphia when shopping for clothes, seem to go hand in hand. My brain hasn't caught up to my body yet.

At the same time, I'm trying REALLY hard to look at the rest of the journey in a positive light instead of a negatively-motivated march of punishment and inner criticism en route to the next goal (see, Colleen? I'm TRYING, okay?!). It's easier to write in theory than to actually live out in practice, but being proud of how I've changed my life so far while also setting the next set of goals, is allowed. I've always lived by "all or nothing" rules," but I know from a rational standpoint that both thoughts can exist at the same time.

I want to run a half-marathon before my 40th birthday. I want to fit in a go-cart and go racing (I might already!). I want to get better at cooking so that I can creatively incorporate more protein into my diet. I want to stop worrying about if I'm going to fit in small spaces (literal ones, we don't have time for metaphorical ones). I'd like to think that all of those goals are positive. I do have some goals associated with numbers on the scale and on the tags of my clothes, but I'm going to keep those private -- because the proof is in the NSVs.

While keeping those goals in sight (and they actually are in sight now when they seemed impossible before), I can also celebrate that I can run. I lift. I fit into clothes that fit me better now than they did in 2014 when they were new. And I'm not experiencing constant pain on a daily basis. Both the goals and the celebration can exist; it's not all or nothing.

So yes... I didn't come this far to only come this far. I can't stop now when I've come as far as I have. But the next set of goals are more attainable now than they've ever been. And I can celebrate that fact... as well as the fact that my entire life has changed in less than two years.