I just came up from my run tonight. Hot and Nasty....smiling. I remember days not that long ago when Hot and Nasty felt, well...nasty. I didn't want to exert effort...it felt terrible. I am not going to lie and say it's not terrible anymore, but it's less terrible. I can LOVE it in a way because it's the little sign that my body gives me telling me that I am putting in the work. Laura (my friend) and I both have the fitbit now and we are in constant competition for the most steps or how many "active" leaves are on our activity flowers. (It sounds like your mom's sex education code, but it's not..I promise). It keeps me putting in the work all day long and I APPRECIATE it and her for being a support, a motivation, and a driver. We haven't always had a close relationship, but I have had the best time supporting, motivating and being genuinely happy for each other!
People outside of the blog world tell me that I am inspiring them to get out and do something and in turn they inspire me to keep it up. It's crazy. When they say that I always think "Please don't look to me for inspiration, I am one step away from binge eating french fries and watching 12 hours straight of some Real Housewives marathon (It really DOES NOT matter what city).
Why do I do that?
Well, in all the years I have been a professional self-analyzer (sorry...I am not taking new patients) I have never figured it out. Then, in a conversation about how I am really not interested in running (yes, I was actually trying to prepare those around me for my upcoming and expected failure)...I had an epiphany. I am the only one who can comfort me. I am not sure if it started out of necessity or if I am just too damned independent minded, but I am the only one who I KNOW will still be with me when I inevitably fail. I will be there when I cry until I talk myself out of it and I will be the one to say "It's ok...if others are affected or let down...eff them. They're not me. They don't live in this body." Then I will wrap myself in a hot, melty Cheeseburger Blanket and sing myself to sleep with Cherry Cobbler lullaby. When some people are down, they surround themselves with a support system. I surround myself with more ME. (which really is not as fabulous as it may sound).
I started this blog nearly two years ago and I am actually only down a couple of pounds from then. Seems like I failed in a way. Then I remember...in almost two years time, I have experienced so much. I now live smoke free after an embarrassing 19 years (I am only 35...that is sooo sad), I went to a personal trainer. I puked from eating bad and working out! I am running. (and I WILL CONTINUE TO RUN *even though I hate it a lotta bit*) When I first started blogging I was constantly concerned with what people thought of me and how people's words and actions have hurt me. Today...I returned from walking with Laura after lunch...I had to make a quick jaunt to the break room for some water. I heard behind me someone make a comment about someone being sweaty and nasty and that it was "typical". I don't know who it was or if they were talking about me, but I've decided that it doesn't matter.
(Which gets me back to how this started....)
I'd rather be walking to the break room sweaty and nasty then to continue to sit at my desk fat. I would rather be walk/running the Komen in June than coming up with an excuse why I can't.
I would rather be thin :o), but then....I'd probably just be a bitch. :o)