I took my girls to the beach this weekend. It was a chance to reconnect and recharge from the insanity that goes along with selling your house. L needed a break from me hounding her about tidying her puzzle pieces and I needed a break from artfully staging dish soap and books.
With the help of my Mom and Auntie babysitting I was able to go for my most challenging training run to date. For 60 minutes I ran with the sweet smelling ocean wind pushing on my chest. Nature made resistance training at its best. Somewhere in the middle I took a one minute walk break but at this point the break is needed more mentally than physically. My pace was brisk at the start and a toddler could have passed me near the end. But I kept on moving. When my mind started to drift to thoughts of walking I would remind myself that if I could run this then the Sun Run would be a cinch.
I am now that woman. The one that you see on Sunday mornings…you know, running and sweating in public. I am not ashamed at my butt flapping every time my feet pound the pavement or the people that may be looking at the cat hair sticking to it. I couldn’t be prouder because I know that I am stronger than ever.
Later that day, after the sand was washed from our feet, I reviewed the pictures on my digital camera. I came across a picture of myself standing in the sand with M hanging snugly in the carrier. Who was this woman, standing tall and dare I say?…slim. Up to this point I realized my clothes were becoming loose but have not seen photographic evidence to support it. My mind is finally catching up with my reflection.
I don’t know if I am self sabotaging my efforts. I feel almost too relaxed about the food I shove in my mouth. Chocolate has been tempting me at every turn. I think it is a sign that my portions need to be increased. Or that I need to have more salad and fruit washed and prepped.
I was faced with L’s discarded chocolate covered waffle cone that wanted me to take a big bite out of it. I literally had a conversation reasoning with the yummy waffle cone
“I really want you but you are no good for me!” Then my aunt was kind enough to point out that chocolate looks like poop. After that it felt quite effortless throwing it in the trash. Maybe I should try picturing every fattening food item as something that I would find in a diaper. I would probably make wiser choices.
I think I will just continue look at this cheerful picture of me with my hot new bod. And that will remind me that nothing tastes as good as slim feels.