I’ve worked out for many, many years. In fact, I’ve worked out for far longer than I was even consciously aware of. As a kid, all I wanted to do was be outside, running around, kicking a ball, throwing a ball, scoring a goal, tackling someone twice my size, riding my bike as fast as I could until I had to break at the last minute, playing tag, Red Rover and the Danish version of Sharks and Minnows on the ice, even once having to head to the hospital in an ambulance after slamming down on the ice and cracking open my head. But I got him!!! I won!!
So, it’s always been my passion just to keep moving.
As I got older, other nuances entered the picture…like being a girl whose body was starting to develop and I hadn’t even realized it.
I’ll never forget when I came home to the United States after living Denmark for three years. I returned in the 7th grade. The first day of junior high was enlightening. I could see in the hallways the girls walking, and under their long blonde, brunette bouncing hairlines were the imprints of …gasp….a BRA!!!
Like, what the helllllll????
That is my first memory of being a…girly girl. And to be honest…I was not thrilled.
I felt behind the curve. And that day I went home and knew I was going have to tell someone I needed to buy a bra. I felt the burning embarrassment in my cheeks even surmising or imagining how my dad would look at me. I was his boy, his tomboy, and in reality, his last of three girls who somehow knew he probably wanted a boy and became that in my own head.
So we bought the bra at the PX on base. My mom and I.
Fast forward to all of the years in between: the years of a love of sports, a passion for fashion, and a quest to have the best body I could.
I was never the skinniest, nor the heaviest. I had the friends who were both. Body image dates back …way back. I never had issues with how I looked…or didn’t look…but I did feel there was something better I could achieve. So I worked at it.
I’ve had my highs and my lows. The funny thing is, I probably didn’t realize the highs until I was experiencing the lows. In other words, I probably did not fully appreciate my efforts and results because I always thought I could look, feel or perform better.
To this day, at the tender age of 54, I am always striving to stay active, to feel awesome, and yes…to look my best. It’s a little crazy, I know….because I’ve often heard people say things like: “What does it matter at a certain age, especially if you’re married?” Well, I just don’t get that way fo thinking, and I most likely never will.
I still get irritated with myself if I feel like a sloth, and not at the best me I can be.
But the reasons are different.
I was never a model on the cover of “Vogue”, and not even on “Shape” or “Runner’s World” magazines. But I would look at the ones who were and wonder what it felt like to look and feel that way. You know…that sense of perfect in some way.
The irony is once in a while I will find a picture of myself and think “Damn…I looked pretty good back then!!”, and then almost immediately I will flash back to that general time frame when the picture was taken and remember feeling soft, not as fit as I could be, and definitely no way in hell bikini-worthy.
And then I think “Idiot. I’d give anything to look like that right now!!”
My point?
Feel your power. Look in the mirror and love your efforts. Because it’s all just a snapshot of the bigger picture! You look better than you think you do…you are your own goal. Your body is your temple…on loan from God for as long as he deems necessary on this earth!! Treat it well, abuse it every now and then with a harder-than-hard workout followed up by the occasional sweeter than sweet Haagen Dazs Vanilla Almond Fudge pint.
Don’t dream away what you are right now. You’re awesome.
And so am I. 💪🏻
jensumandthensome 