Guess what? I enjoy working out! I mean, I don’t LOVE sweating and being out of breath and my chest hurting, but I love knowing that my body is working. It’s moving. My heart is beating, my cheeks are flushed, my ponytail is swaying back and forth. I love being on the elliptical and pushing myself faster and faster and holding my speed until I can’t anymore. I love adding weights to my shoulder press and finding it easier than I remember it being last time. I love getting stronger; faster. I also love the endorphin high I get afterwards. After spending months (and I mean months) in a foul mood and frustrated with the state of things in my personal life where everything felt like it was spiraling out of control, it feels almost euphoric to go to the gym and feel, not only the physical effects of my hard work, but also the mental and emotional ones, too. In a time of my life where much is out of my control, I finally am feeling empowered because I am taking control of what I can.
Recently (Thursday, 1/21 to be exact), I took a Zumba class. Now, if you don’t know already, I am very competitive by nature. I am so competitive that, if I don’t think I can win/succeed/be right, I won’t even try. How shitty is that? I know. I know. I KNOW! What does that have to do with Zumba? It’s not competitive. No, it’s not, but it requires the ability to set yourself up to look ridiculous and for some, that’s the same as losing. For me, that used to be the case. As I’ve said in previous posts, I have come a long way in my body acceptance/self love, but I know it’s something on which I will always have to work. I mention that because it’s still not always 100% easy for me to make myself look foolish at the gym. It’s a pretty vulnerable place for some. Did that stop me from trying? No. Did it make me want to run far away and never return? Absolutely not! The opposite, in fact. I can’t wait to go back and try again and again until I can at least keep up with the instructor. I want to be good at this. I CAN be good at this. That, my friends, is HUGE for me. Instead of never wanting to come back and look silly again, I have promised myself that I will keep coming back until I don’t look silly anymore, and then I will keep doing it long after that. What I did was brave. Maybe not for some people, but for me, it took a massive amount of courage and determination to go through with it. I am proud of myself. Damn proud. “Fuck-yeah-go-me-I-am-awesome” proud.
A huge part of my own personal journey towards self-love is taking care of myself as an act of the holy, because I am powerful, precious, and holy. I owe it to myself to make my body as healthy as I can be. That doesn’t even necessarily mean physical health, but right now, that’s the easiest and most obvious.
I hope you all are taking care of yourselves, whether it’s by exercising, eating well, or hiding in your blanket fort with a pint of ice cream watching Netflix (sometimes that’s all you can do). I love you. YOU are powerful, precious, holy, and NOT ALONE.