Before I was a model, or on the big screen, and before I ever ran a marathon or played college baseball, I was just a little fat kid who was tired of being fat.
I went for my first run on a cold wet Columbus Day when I was fourteen. My lungs were on fire and my pair of grey sweatpants had the same affect on my inner thighs as a thousand fire ants…but I kept running. For two miles I convinced myself not to stop, not to quit, and for the first time in a long time I was proud of myself.
That kid taught me a lot.
Sometimes little hinges swing big doors.