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Victoria Johnson (cont.):
You know the old saying, “If you want to look thinner, hang out with people bigger than you?” That’s exactly what I did. To soothe my emotional needs, I hung out with women who looked like me, thought like me and ate like me. Believe it or not, I was their fitness instructor at the time. Unfortunately, we didn’t view exercise as a way to gain health—it was a justification to eat more. My girlfriends and I would get all dressed up in our workout clothes, barely break a sweat and then hit a McDonald’s drive-through. “Sure I’ll have fries with that! I worked out—I deserve it!”
One day while I was leading the class, I felt a little dizzy. Ten minutes into the workout I fainted. When I came to, I thought they were kidding when some of the class members actually asked me to get on my feet before their heart rates went down! It was then I realized that maybe these people were not my true friends. Maybe I was not as important to them as I had thought. The realization hurt me deeply as I had finally felt like I belonged with their group.
The blackout incident prompted me to go see a doctor. As I sat with clipboard and pen in hand, I began to lie about my health history with no regrets. (Actually, this was the typical “me” at the time. Part of my lifestyle was not facing the truth.)
"Has anyone in your family ever had diabetes?”
“No.”
“Do you . . . ?”
"Nope, never. I eat fruit and vegetables and drink eight glasses of distilled water every day.”
Then the magic question: “How much do you weigh?” Well, when exactly? In the morning? Before PMS? After PMS? Not wanting to face the truth, I scribbled 130.
Then the nurse came in to get my vital signs. Managing to keep a straight face as she read my fictitious questionnaire, she hit the weight question and blurted out, “130?!”
“Well, last time I checked it was 130.”
“Please step on the scale.”
“Shouldn’t I take my shoes off? And my belt—it’s metal; it must weigh a few pounds.”
After stripping to the bare minimum, I stood on the scale, holding in my breath and pulling in my stomach, trying to be lighter.
She whizzed the metal bar way past 130 before she clicked to 150, 160, 170. When the rule clicked at 175, I jumped off the scale in horror. Was I really that fat?!
I was still in a near state of shock when I met with the doctor. What he said to me did little to soothe me. “Young lady, if you do not change your eating habits and your lifestyle, you are on your way to developing type II diabetes.” Holding a large syringe and getting right in my face, he continued, “You will have to take this needle and stick yourself with it every day. You will become a pharmaceutical drug addict if you don’t make a major life change!”
His words hit me like a hammer. I thought about my aunt who had her leg amputated because of diabetes and my grandfather who had chronic heart disease. The doctor told me I was headed for these same complications if I didn’t do something . . . and soon.
 After I left his office, I sat in my car and sobbed like a baby while listening to a thunderstorm outside—yet the storm outside was unmatched by the raging storm I felt on the inside. I realized I had been given great opportunities in my life. My mother and father had sacrificed to provide me with an education and a life of equality. I was not living up to their standards and I was not doing my life justice in this condition. Did I want to continue down the same path of self-destruction and “poor me” victimization or did I want to take control of my health? Did I want to be 175 pounds and uncomfortable, or have a body that allowed me to move freely? Did I want to be out of breath and tired at the end of the day, or have the energy to do things with my family and friends? I had to make a decision.
At that moment, I asked God to forgive me for not honoring the gift He had given me—the gift of life. I asked Him to forgive me for not honoring my body, my health and my talents. I asked Him to please show me how to get well. I told Him that I promised to do whatever it took to do the right thing.
As I lifted my head, the rain suddenly stopped and a brilliant sun broke through the clouds. While some skeptics might say that this occurrence was nothing more than a change in the weather pattern, I know in my heart that I was receiving divine intervention. I felt a tremendous peace within me that surpassed anything I’d ever known. I just knew that I would find a path and be able to lose the weight. Thank you, God!
I started my car and headed home. Only this time, I took a different route. I felt a burning desire for change. I didn’t drive past all of the fast food restaurants I used to think were my friends. >From that moment forward, I continued on my path to a Body Revival and developed the principles in this book. It didn’t happen overnight and it didn’t happen without some pain. I had to let go of habits that were comfortable as well as some relationships that I finally realized were not healthy. Yet I never gave up. When I veered off course, my faith steered me back. I promise you that if you stay true to this program, it will work for you, too. It will change your body, it will change your mind, it will change your life.
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