Here it is my inaugural Phat Tuesday post.
I have been wanting to do this now for 4 weeks, you know since Fat Tuesday. I found the pun interesting and have had about a thousand thoughts on blogging since. Time on the other hand...
So here I am (reading for my Wellcoaches assignment) and BLOGGING my heart out. Because I have something heavy, so heavy on my heart. REAL. Vulnerable. And I need to share. Because this journey is all about truth.
I feel great. I feel amazing actually. I feel like I just hit a really good stride in my fitness and in my nutrition. I feel like my health issues that are currently being identified as EXCELLENT Cardiovascular Health should not be taken with a grain of salt, but rather celebrated. I was thinking the worst of the worst and here I am in the best cardiovascular health of my life. We will save that for a later post.
Saturday.
I was off to a baby shower. An afternoon with some of the most beautiful women I know and very influential to me as a mother. I consult my dearest friend (Pretty. Funny. Smart) and ask her what I should wear, we decide on a pink tank, black pants and my neon patent sandals that I would wear everywhere if I could. I do myself up, hair, make up, and sandals. And then I look in the mirror..... I over analyze. I look side to side. Front to back. Again and again and again. My arms are so flabby. I shouldn't have ate cheese, I am bloated. And then it hit me like a fucking brick.....will I ever be happy with this body? Will I ever look at it and be proud?
I just finished telling you not only am I apparently medically in excellent shape, but I feel like I am. So WHY AM I DOING THIS? My excess skin will sag. My arms that feel stronger than ever before will have extra skin. Will I ever remove it? NO. Do I want a wrap? Not really.
I want to not think about it. I want to cherish it and love it and never speak badly about it ever again. This journey starts and ends with a single thought. Yes, action is critical, but you have to believe it. You have to want it. So, I shed a tear or two about being so mean to myself and I moved on. With the intentions of never being mean again.
I have been wanting to do this now for 4 weeks, you know since Fat Tuesday. I found the pun interesting and have had about a thousand thoughts on blogging since. Time on the other hand...
So here I am (reading for my Wellcoaches assignment) and BLOGGING my heart out. Because I have something heavy, so heavy on my heart. REAL. Vulnerable. And I need to share. Because this journey is all about truth.
I feel great. I feel amazing actually. I feel like I just hit a really good stride in my fitness and in my nutrition. I feel like my health issues that are currently being identified as EXCELLENT Cardiovascular Health should not be taken with a grain of salt, but rather celebrated. I was thinking the worst of the worst and here I am in the best cardiovascular health of my life. We will save that for a later post.
Saturday.
I was off to a baby shower. An afternoon with some of the most beautiful women I know and very influential to me as a mother. I consult my dearest friend (Pretty. Funny. Smart) and ask her what I should wear, we decide on a pink tank, black pants and my neon patent sandals that I would wear everywhere if I could. I do myself up, hair, make up, and sandals. And then I look in the mirror..... I over analyze. I look side to side. Front to back. Again and again and again. My arms are so flabby. I shouldn't have ate cheese, I am bloated. And then it hit me like a fucking brick.....will I ever be happy with this body? Will I ever look at it and be proud?
I just finished telling you not only am I apparently medically in excellent shape, but I feel like I am. So WHY AM I DOING THIS? My excess skin will sag. My arms that feel stronger than ever before will have extra skin. Will I ever remove it? NO. Do I want a wrap? Not really.
I want to not think about it. I want to cherish it and love it and never speak badly about it ever again. This journey starts and ends with a single thought. Yes, action is critical, but you have to believe it. You have to want it. So, I shed a tear or two about being so mean to myself and I moved on. With the intentions of never being mean again.
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