I'm mad at myself.
Last November I decided that I would run in the 500 Festival Mini Marathon this May.
In a previous life (that would be the one before kids), I was quite a runner. A little more tortoise than hare, but a runner nonetheless. Mike and I ran the Walt Disney World marathon in 1999. That same year I ran the Mini – not well – but I finished. In 2001 I trained for the Country Music Marathon. A poorly timed stress fracture in my foot kept me from actually running the race.
I look back at pictures of myself from that period of my life, and I'm amazed at what I see. I looked fabulous. I wasn't tiny by any stretch of the imagination. I might be short, but I do not come from a tiny people. But I was fit and strong. I look beautiful to myself in a way that I know in my heart only comes from feeling good about the body you are in.
Fast forward to the present. I was looking at some pictures that were taken of me recently and I was horrified. The little voice inside my head started doing that ugly talk. Ugghh. Could my face be any rounder? I swear I was sucking my gut in . . . is that really how I look when I'm actually trying to suck my gut in? Surely I'm mistaken, that can't be me.
And this is why I'm mad. I know that since having kids I've gotten to a weight that's not where I want to be. I know this is a different body. But training for the Mini wasn't supposed to be about that. I told myself it was about taking care of myself. About accomplishing a goal that would take commitment and hard-work. About making myself and my health a priority. About being an example to my kids, and most importantly to my daughter, of exercising for the sake of endorphins – the rush you feel, the flush in your cheeks.
It wasn't supposed to be about a number on a scale, the size of my pants, the way I look in a poorly-lit photograph.
But I can't help it, and it makes me mad.
I want to do it for all the right reasons and not be bothered that in 2 1/2 months I haven't dropped more than one measly pound. A little gratification from the Scale Gods would be nice. Perhaps a wink of approval from the God Who Decreases Pant Sizes.
Don't worry, I'm not giving up, though. I am bound and determined to run this race. I have a lot of miles to go, which means a lot of time to think. Maybe somewhere in these upcoming miles there is a lesson for me about what being healthy and strong and beautiful really means.
No related posts.
When I lived in Lafayette a few years ago I was quite the gym rat. I was in the best shape of my life.
I had started running with the plan to do the 500 Mini-Marathon. I, too, ran into injuries that prevented me from running it.
I’m in the same boat today. I’ve put on some weight and I rarely exercise.
I picked up a treadmill after
Xmas and I’m starting to get back into working out.
Keep it up. The results will come.
It all takes time. Time that you have to make for yourself. We all get wrapped up in the day-to-day and generally find that at the end, we’ve made time for everyone else.
I’ve only met you recently, but think you are a very beautiful woman; both in figure and in spirit.
Keep it up, the results you want are attainable.
I am so proud of you for wanting to do this for the right reasons. Body image is so prevalent in our country and that is not what a person should be based on. You are wonderful, amazing, Beautiful and funny. I know how much it means to be comfortable in your own body and feel good. I wish that I lived closer because I have the same goals. I know that you can do it and before long Elena will be running beside you!! I would love to run it with you next year. I love you so!
I really love this post and how honest you are! I feel the same way when I look at pictures of myself. I really can’t believe that it’s me.
You can do it! I’ll be cheering for you!