Today when I told her I felt an ugly pang of hypocrisy. The last two weeks I've fallen off the workout wagon. I'll admit it- I'm sick of it. The last six months have been a carousel ride of routine numbers... numbers I wish would change. Working out and I have a very love/hate relationship, there are days when I enjoy the athleticism, muscle definition, and endurance required for a good work out and there are days I don't enjoy working out at all. I would rather submit to a root canal without anesthetic. The part I don't enjoy is that it requires time. Time is a commodity for which I have dwindling supply of and the few minutes I do get to myself I don't necessarily want to spend it covered in sweat... sometimes I would rather spend those few minutes in my sweats on the couch rather than soaked in it.
I am committed to a lifestyle of healthy diet and excersie for my health (I am quite literally running from my family history). I eat a well balanced diet- devoid of artificial colors and sweeteners, additives, excessive carbs and fats. While good health is a great reason to live healthfully, I have also realized that deep down I am chasing an unattainable image of beauty. Looking for the answer to become 'more beautiful.' I know if I keep at it long enough and hard enough I will reach the goals I set for myself, but I can tell you that in my current mind set, happiness of hitting those goals will run away from me faster than bathtub water down the drain. I don't need to hit those numbers to be happy, I need my perception of my own personal beauty to change to be happy. No 'real' time needed.
I know I have been overly hard on myself lately- after all, who doesn't deserve a few weeks off now and then? I've committed to getting back at it- so what's the problem? Over the last two weeks I have noticed that if I was doing 'nothing' to improve myself, I was feeling miserable about myself. I began looking for quick fix solutions, I began to get annoyed with those who were putting up the numbers, found a miracle drug, or were posting about being at the gym, I was sad. Instead of relaxing a little and enjoying the few extra minutes to myself, I was miserable.
I am no genius, but have figured out a few truths in my quest for beauty. I have come to realize I will never be a size two- my body type is not that type. I will never have a perfectly sculpted chin- I have been blessed with a lack of a definite one. I will never be a tall supermodel goddess type at a 5' 4" tall. My problem was not taking a break from working out, my problem is me. What I am versus what I'm chasing. What I'm chasing is not real- in fact much of what I'm chasing is created by careful lighting and massive amounts of editing. What I'm chasing is genetics I do not have. What I am chasing is not what I am or what I will ever be.
Moving forward I want to commit to myself to do better for 'me'... not the 'me' that I can never be. I want to be able to work out and try harder to be happy for the changes I see in my body- not the body I will never have. I will let Kiera use play make-up and my lipstick because I know I can teach her that happiness is not making yourself up to be somebody else, but always letting yourself shine though. I want her to know how beautiful she is, because she is. We were all made in the perfect likeness of ourselves- nobody else. We have to come to a place where we can understand and appreciate the unique materials in which we were given to paint on, before we can truly create our own unique masterpiece. We need to be our own kind of beautiful.
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