June 15, 2015

Body Positive: You Don't Control Me, Stomach!

Since my last post where I publicly lamented the size of my stomach, I've been hit over the head with messages from the universe that basically say, I'm doing it wrong. To recap, I've been on a two-year journey that has resulted in hiring a therapist, leaving a toxic work environment, completing a Half Ironman, starting a business, and losing 40 pounds. I'm 39, and for, oh, let's say 27 years, I've thought of my body as being too big, or not as small as other people's. The last 12 years, especially.

The first time I liked my body was last year when I was training for my Half Ironman, and was down 30-40 pounds. That pride in my body lasted well past the race and into this year. It stopped about two months ago when my body very naturally and sensibly reacted to a decrease in high-intensity exercise. And virtually overnight, I went right back to that old place of hating what I look like, despite choosing to work-out less, choosing not to train, and choosing not to do a 70-mile race that I did not want to do.

I read a great article on Pinterest this morning titled, 10 Reasons I Take Off My Shirt In Yoga Class. This article solidified what has been swirling around in my brain - I'm done. In the two weeks since I wrote that last blog post, I've decided to give my body love and praise instead of blame and accusations. So what I'm trying to do is, the million times a day I think a negative thought about my body, I counteract it with a body-positive thought.


This is a picture of me and my friend Meg at the Mach Tenn Triathlon one week ago. This picture has been chipping away at my soul for 8 days. I look terrible. The sun is in my eyes, my posture is bad and my stomach is puffed out. I've spent a week throwing some serious shade at this picture. But you you know what? That fucking stomach got me through a 0.6 mile open water swim, a 15 mile bike ride, and a 4 mile run, AND it got me through all of that 2 minutes faster than last year when I was in the best athletic shape of my life.

Are my fancy Madewell jeans tight? Yes. Am I kind of only wearing caftans now? YES. Could I take my daily calorie goal down a little to reflect my change in exercise? Sure. Does anyone think I'm fat? No. Do I think I'm fat? Nope. Does any of this matter?! Noooooo!!! Am I one million things and not one of those things is my number on the scale?! Yesssss!!!

Body, thanks for being awesome; thanks for being strong; thanks for the boobs; and thanks for a nourished stomach full of food made from a man I love.


Delaney Mae said...

"thanks for the boobs" YES! My boobs fluctuate wildly with my weight and A is always SO HAPPY when they're up a cup. Makes it easier to be less mad at the rest of my bod.

You look amazing, chica. Get all that positive mojo tattooed on the inside of your eyeballs! So hard to turn off that mean voice that you would never, ever use on anyone else. The number of times I say to myself "Ugh, you're an idiot!" when I would never call anyone an idiot! Except my dog...

The Blonde Mule said...

Delaney - yes, exactly! I say things to myself that I would never A) say to a friend, nor B) allow a friend to say about herself in my presence. It's so screwed up. I'm going to try real hard to quit doing it. It's destructive and doesn't get me anywhere. DONE.


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