Thanks body... just for once. Thanks.

Yesterday I half completed a blog post about Victoria's Secret. Frankly I was mad. Well not mad so much mad as sad. But I deleted it...

See I went to Vickies yesterday to see what this "perfect" bra business is all about (I don't get the fuss BTW). I have a lot of bras. And by a lot, I mean, more than a few. OK what I really mean is about 20 and that's just from the last couple of months that I had to buy new since the old ones no longer fit. In fact if I had to make a rough estimate I'd say I've probably spent $1000 on bras in the last year (buying them in three different sizes). So I consider myself a bit of an aficionado. In any case, I went and, well... it's swimsuit season so you can see where this is going. Of course it's not like the people going to Vickies are looking for skirted tents but I mean come ON. Get real. These suckers wouldn't cover half my hiney much less any part of my top half. I should preface this by saying that I DID actually buy aswimsuit from Vickies (online though and in the blue dot). It's in my drawer where I suspect it will probably live out it's remaining days. Unless Jillian and her 30DS can perform some kind of swimsuit summer miracle (I'm holding out hope).

Anyway all that aside... I found myself feeling really crappy when I left there. I didn't even buy ONE SINGLE bra. Why you ask? Well frankly I think Victoria's "Secret" is plastic surgery. That's what I think. I don't really believe that any reasonable American woman can expect to look like the women in these swimsuits. OK OK that's an exaggeration. My sister looks like those women. But she hasn't had kids yet so her stomach doesn't look like it's been run over with a tiller and then beat with meat tenderizer AND she can still eat an entire cheesecake over the course of a weekend with no ill effect (ok AND she works out like 3 hours a day but whatever). Soooo yeah yeah there are women that can pull those little numbers off. It's not their fault, and they probably work their butts off to do it, but I want to hate them anyway. It's not right. I know. But still... Why does Heidi Klum need the perfect bra? I need the perfect bra. Heidi Klum could probably never wear a bra again. Anyway. HA HA I deleted the post from yesterday cause it sounded a lot like what I wrote up there ^. Full of loathing. And nothing to be proud of. Only that post had no happy ending.

Yesterday I overlooked the fact that I was walking the mall in size 6 pants. I forgot all about the little incident with the cheesecake that I ate (and didn't gain any weight from.. cause I WORK OUT LIKE A MANIAC). I denied the fact that my Deputy told me he was the luckiest man alive. I neglected to mention that I did 30DS AND yoga. I walked. I ran. I cleaned. I had a good hair day.

And today... well the scale said what it said and I did my shred and then I was hot so I went outside (in my shorty shorts and sports bra... that you would have NEVER caught me dead in before) and I felt sooo great I decided to go for a run. A RUN. And runs are where I have all my greatest epiphanies. And this was the one I had today...

LOVE YOUR BODY. Just for once. LOVE IT and THANK IT. (it's really not that big of an epiphany I realize)

This body.

This body that you packed 40 pounds onto in less than a years time because you ate non-stop to try to keep yourself awake all night to work. All the while abusing it by never sleeping. And yet it kept going. 

This body that couldn't run more than 60 seconds a year ago and can run 9 miles now.

This body that never treated you badly even though you fed it oreos, six at a time, for 10 years.

This body that can pull of that Jillian Michaels 30 day shred (with only a little cursing at the TV)

This body that can stand for 13 hours, welcoming life into the world, and into it's hands, and still come home and make breakfast and take kids to school before collapsing.

This body that can strike a yoga pose fit for magazines covers.

This body that can have a piece of cheesecake (and not alittle one) once a month and NOT change the scale for it.

This body. Yours.

My buddy Rachel really got me thinking yesterday about my scale issues and she couldn't be more right. I'd be happier if I threw it out. Cause when I really strip away all the issues... my body is amazing. As is each of ours. I spend so much of my time thinking about the person was I WISH I was or I THINK I SHOULD be and so little time rejoicing in how far I've come and where I am. I have come a long long way. A year ago I never would have eaten 7 servings of fruits and veggies a day. A year ago I never would have passed the cookie isle at the store ENTIRELY. A year ago I never would have RUN much less RUN 9 MILES! A year ago I would have been dragging my butt around my house instead of doing yoga for an hour or more. A year ago I never would have almost stopped eating red meat completely and make salmon once or even twice a week. A year ago: I weighed 178 pounds. I was tired. Exhausted. I hated my body. I hated myself for letting myself gain 40 pounds. I hated the people around me just because I hated everything. I didn't exercise. I didn't run. I couldn't chase my kids and I would have rather sat on the couch that do anything else cause I was a slug. A year ago I was not the me I am now.

So for today. I'm thanking my body. Loving it and saying "Hey you're alright." Tomorrow may be a different story but today.... Thanks :)