IF I LOVED MY OWN BODY
If I woke up one morning suddenly adoring my body, the first thing I’d do is complete an Ironman Triathlon. I’d allow myself to eat chocolate cake when I felt like it because I’d know that moderation, not deprivation or overindulgence, is the healthiest way to go. I’d exercise to have fun and keep my body healthy, (rather than lose five more pounds, or to work off last night’s dessert, or this morning’s binge), so I’d stop running and start swimming instead. I’d finally be fearless enough to Join Team Z, and I wouldn’t feel self-conscious or bad about it, and anyone who would look down on me is just a bitch anyway.
I’d burn all of my sweatpants and wear a running skirt and sexy shoes to improv class. I’d go to Tara’s or even Eddie Vedder’s house without even looking in the mirror! I’d even go get my oil changed without a shred of self-consciousness. Or I’d go out to a party and spend more time singing than obsessing about the French onion dip or clinging to the wall feeling insecure. I might even go skinny dipping.
In fact, if I focused more on my body’s awe-inspiring ability to finish the Marine Corp Marathon rather than on how I look, I’d probably start calling myself Captain Kick Ass. Plus, with all the money I’d save not buying Medifast, I’d have extra cash to put toward buying a road bike. One thing is for sure: I wouldn’t give a hoot if my boobs started to sag, because I would be too busy toasting my ability to see the good in everything!
I found this to be kind of eye opening. I love the thought of thinking anyone that looks down on me for joining an exercise group is just an a**hole to begin with. And in the end, I’m actually not friends with a**holes, so what the hell am I worrying about?
Captain Kick Ass