{one woman’s in-progress is another woman’s goal}

This is a wordy post (no pictures, sorry!), but it has such an important message.

I recently met up with some ladies from my local SRTT group for a newbie run…

I ended up walking with two of the attendees. I had met each of them before, but the walk enabled us to actually talk (as opposed to that awkward huffing and puffing, gasping for air, trying not to die, but also trying to be social chatter that usually happens while running), and we (I’m making the leap to speak for all of us) had the loveliest time and getting to know each other a little better.

Once we got on the topic, we spent about half of the walk talking about fitness, food habits, and how it is so easy to gain weight and SO DAMN HARD to lose it.

I mentioned that I had gained 30 pounds in six months – it was a perfect storm of depression, anxiety, an awful job, a stressful commute, a boyfriend away on deployment, and an identity crisis. I ate my feelings. HARD.

I had that job almost three years ago, and I haven’t lost a pound since. In fact, I’ve continued to gain (thankfully, at a much slower rate).

Since beginning running regularly six months ago, I’ve felt my body get stronger. My squish has relocated to different spots on my body, but it’s still there. I still have serious insecurities about my body. I used to be a dancer – I was a twig until college. I remember going from 118lbs to 130lbs and thinking I was a beast. Then I read that 150lbs was the highest recommended weight for my height and age and vowed to never hit that number… but I eventually did. I managed to get back down to 140lbs with a lot of hard work, and then drifted back up to 145, which I was happy with.

But then that perfect storm happened…

My weight fluctuates day-to-day, but I average 175lbs. I would give anything to be 150lbs again.

People ALWAYS react with surprise when I mention that I’m 175. I ALWAYS respond with, “Yeahhh… wellllllll… I know how to hide it.” I used to love body-conscious clothing. Now, I live in stretchy pants and billowy tops because I don’t like the way jeans pinch my gut, or the way shirts cling to it. When I look at my body, I only see the protruding shape of my stomach and it bothers me. I bet no one else sees what I see.

As we were walking and talking about how hard it is to lose weight, we stopped in front of a set of glass doors to look at ourselves (we needed to see how badass we are). Shortly there-after, one of these ladies mentioned that my body was her goal (or, something similar to that).


That stopped me in my tracks. I fessed up to liking my bubble butt… but then I started going off about my thighs (chub rub!), and it just… it needs to stop. The negative self-talk needs to stop.

So… moral of the story…

You might feel unhappy with your appearance, and uncomfortable in your own skin. You might hate your jiggly thighs and your fat rolls. But someone else wants the body you currently have. So stop putting yourself down. Be nicer to yourself. Feel confident that you have your health, and know that you can keep working toward YOUR goal. (Please be sure that it’s a realistic, reasonable, healthy, and SAFE goal!)

In the meantime, allow yourself to bask in the glow that you’re currently the symbol of someone else’s goal. It’s a pretty great compliment, and feels damn good…


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