A Promise To Myself

I have a confession to make.  I haven't been very nice to myself lately.  There has been a lot of negative self talk in regards to my body.  A lot of poking and prodding at areas that have "gotten soft" (compared to what I'm used to) and a general overall dislike of my appearance.

Normally I try to stay focused on what my body is capable of rather than how it looks but over the last several months, I've noticed a change in how my clothes fit, or in some cases, don't fit.  I started to get preoccupied with the little bit of extra flab around my belly and the saddlebags that I thought were starting to appear.  It started to really wear on me.  Especially when bombarded with daily images of super fit people on Social Media.

THIS STOPS NOW.

When I actually get my head out of my a$$ and take the time to look at the last few months, I notice a couple of key things.

1.  My ability to perform didn't change regardless of my saddlebags or flabby midsection.  In fact, I set course PR's in 3 of my 4 triathlons this year.  That has nothing to do with how my body looks.

2.  And this is the bigger culprit....I haven't taken care of my self the way I normally would.  This summer was so insanely busy that meal prep went out the window.  We were away a lot so we were eating out and when we were home I hardly cooked so we'd get take out.  And I wondered why my body was changing!

After we came back from Tremblant, I made a promise to myself that I would stop the obsessing and   start to take care of myself.  I went to Costco and stocked up on fish, chicken breast, quinoa and a few other staples and then I spent a day prepping food.   On Sundays I've started to make meal plans for the week for lunch and dinner so I'm not left winging it and deciding that I don't feel like cooking.   A quick perusal of my cookbooks reminded me that making good food doesn't have to be complicated.

I am a creature of habit - my body thrives on routine and this year, especially this summer, has been anything BUT routine.  Yes, I work out a lot but I'm not 25 any more, so it doesn't take much for me to gain a few inches, especially if my diet is less than ideal.  I don't expect things to get any easier in the coming years either.  Next year I will be firmly entrenched in my mid 40's so I'm sure these next few years will bring a variety of interesting "challenges".  I'm going to have to get used to my body changing.

My body may not look like it did last year, or even the year before that but I've realized that doesn't matter.  It's gotten better at doing what it does best (swimming, biking and running) and ultimately that's what really matters to me in the end.

All You Need Is Love

Wiser words were never spoken (or sung in this case).  Love IS all we need to live a happy and fulfilling life.  What I'd like to know is WHY do we (and when I say we, I mean us women) have such a hard time giving ourselves the love we deserve?  We have no problem when it comes to loving our kids, our spouse our friends and our families.  But when it comes to ourselves we become our own worst critics. 

I started thinking about this last night as I got into the shower after my run.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and immediately focused on my belly.  I have a small pot belly.  Sometimes it's nice and flat (like once a month), sometimes (more often than not) there's a bump that turns into a roll that sticks out over the top of my shorts or pants.  I immediately grabbed it and thought "ugh, so gross".  But then I stopped myself.  I had read Lauren Fleshman's blog about keeping it real earlier that day and I thought "You know what...who cares if I have a pot belly?"  It is what it is.  Lauren has a point.  We put too much focus on trying fit into societies definition of "perfect".   We lose sight of what our bodies are actually capable of doing as women (like giving birth-whoa!)  We are fighting a losing battle when we do this.  We will never be happy.   So I asked myself:  Does it affect what my body is able to do?  No.  Do people that know me care that I have a bumpy belly?  No.  Does G love me any less because of this?  No. 

So why should I care? 

I shouldn't.  What I should do is show myself the same love that I show others.   Unconditional love.

I am perfectly imperfect and I have made the decision to LOVE that, pot belly and all.

 Happy Valentine's Day!