I suck at “before” photos. Sure, I’ve got lots of unflattering pics banished to the trash folder, but none of them capture how I really feel about my size, which is near the heaviest…ahem…curviest I’ve ever been in my life.
It’s just that, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this size.
And with this body, as it is right now, I’ve been pretty damn successful.
I’ve nursed my fourth and continue to carry him for MILES all over the place because strollers are for slackers. (HA-it won’t fit in our car). At this size, I’ve comforted and loved on all members of my family, bought my second house, got my bachelors, nearly finished my masters, hit the buzzer on work shit, weathered attacks on my professionalism, got vindicated and validated with an EVEN BETTER gig, and skipped no meals while staying up late studying, folding clothes, managing schedules, planning trips, helping with job hunts and resumes and interviews and vacation recommendations and Flat Stanleys and crisis on personal and professional and international levels, pretending that all that stress hasn’t affected me.
I’ve gained this weight as I’ve gained friends, lost some weight as other relationships faded away. This isn’t a vanity thing. There is no disgust here, but appreciation that my genetics haven’t turned on me (yet), and that I’m relatively healthy.
But I am not the healthiest I can be, and I am feeling the impact of not focusing on my health and fitness. I want more energy.
And I am not getting younger. I’ve always known what I’ve needed to do, and it is gonna suck. IT IS GONNA SUCK.
But TODAY, which was a FANTASTIC day, is the day of my “before” shot, to be compared down the road when I feel like my focus and (gulp) discipline is paying off. No special diet, no product endorsement.
Just me shedding stress, and getting the shit done.