The other day I encountered the biggest bitch. I’m talking Bitch with a capital B.
She stared me straight in the eyes and said:
She poked and prodded at me. She contorted my body in the most unsuspecting ways – judging and criticizing. She pointed out that my once chiseled lower abdomen was softer these days. She was a downright bitch. She said and did cruel things. And she most certainly made me cry my eyes out.
She was me.
This is the same woman who completed countless road races, triathlons of varying distances, placed in the top 5 of her first fitness competition among competitors practically half her age. The same woman who consistently hits the gym 6 days a week – no matter where in the world she is. The same woman who procures obscene kitchen gadgets that turn zucchini into pasta and scours the internet for hours on end looking for creative ways to recreate her favorite recipes. The woman who chooses red wine over sugary mixed drinks when out with friends. The woman who has dedicated such a large portion of her life to health and fitness.
So what the fuck was her problem?! Why was she so…. mean?
The truth is, I’m not sure. I’m not sure why I can be so cruel to myself. I know I’m doing the best I can.
Life has undoubtably been hectic. In the past two months I’ve traveled a ton (some vacations, some work-related), moved cross-county (YAY!!! More on that soon!), and just felt stretched thin (no pun intended). Those aren’t excuses. They’re facts.
The reason I wanted to share my recent experience is not because it’s pretty or easy to talk about. It’s not. In fact, it’s embarassing. But I feel it’s important because I know we’ve all struggled. Maybe you’re feeling like you took a few steps forward only to fall back 10. Maybe you’re tired of stopping and starting a healthy lifestyle. Or, just maybe, you’ve had frighteningly dark moments like I recently did – where you rip your unexpected self to shreds for no justifiable reason.
Well, I just wanted to tell you it’s going to be okay. Because honestly, it doesn’t matter how many times we fall. All that matters is how many times we get up and get going.
So if you’re reading this and doubting how thin you are… or how pretty you are. Or you’re beating yourself up for falling off track. Whatever caused you to stumble, I want you to know it doesn’t matter.
All that really matters – what actually defines us – is how well we rise after falling.
So keep that chin up, buttercup. Be kind to yourself. You’re doing the best you can.