For the past 7 years, I've put my body through the wringer. Having four babies and three miscarriages, my once athletic body has become something only remembered in pictures and home videos.
And honestly, I've had enough. I'm tired of living in a body that I neither respect nor enjoy.
I know, I know. I'm not large. I never have struggled with being obese or even what some would call overweight.
But excuse me while I scream a resounding So what!?!
The point is that I know I can be stronger, faster, more confident if I were to let go of laziness and just embrace my fitness goal. press through when it hurts. keeping going when I'm exhausted and sweating. not run to sugar when I'm stressed. not eat to curb boredom or evoke comfort.
And honestly? I think I owe it to my husband.
Now before you fly off the handle and think for a second that my sweet Jet has ever ever ever given me an ounce of guilt for not being smaller, think again. It's not like that. He's not like that.
In my heart of hearts, I believe it's my job as the wife to honor my husband by having a body that's in shape.
Uh-huh. that statement made me popular, didn't it? ...not.
But more than for him...it's for ME. my confidence. my self respect in that I set a goal and reached it. that I dreamed a certain life and went after it.
I know "in shape" will look different to different people. Having four daughters, I can already see that each of my beautiful girls has a completely different body make-up than her sisters:
One of my babies had ROLLLLLSS on top of rolls. One of my girls has never had a single roll, even during the "chunky baby" stage. One daughter has very little rear and has to wear all things "slim". While the other one has always had a perfectly round one and can't squeeze into what her sister just grew out of. :)
I'm not saying the number on a scale matters. I'm not saying the number in the back of the jeans matters. But what I am saying is that my attitude matters...
Am I still the same woman who wanted to look attractive for my husband? or have I given up and accepted that I will be bigger because I've birthed multiple babies?
Am I still the wife that tries to flirt with my husband by dressing to appeal to his eyes? Or have a given up on myself...feeling like this is as good as it will ever be, so why fight it?
Well, I plan on fighting it. For me that means losing the last of this stubborn baby weight. AND getting back to where you can see that I have muscles. where you can see my muscles ripple when I walk.
I've been trying to work out. trying to eat right. avoiding sugar (until Easter hit). drinking lots of water (until my Stevia ran out). But still, my body hovers right at the 140 mark.
About 15 lbs over where I want to be. 15 lbs above the size that usually marks when my body is fit for my height (5' 5.5")
My goal this week. To walk as many miles as humanly possible. whatever that means.
Why? to prove to myself that I can do it. to break my lazy mindset out of its "eh, what will be will be" mentality. to be able to celebrate that I made a goal and *attacked* it.
Next Wednesday, we'll see what that looks like. and bar my children suddenly coming down with the flu, I plan on making ME and my fitness a priority this week.
I'm tired of living underneath an attic full of clothes that no longer fit me. I'm tired of dreading bathing suit season. I'm tired of feeling like my athletic days are behind me, never to be revisited again.
This week. I hope to change all that.
