We women are funny. When we feel rejected or heartbroken we usually end up taking it out on ourselves. We tend to either get fat or get fit. I keep fluctuating between the two. I think its time to lean farther onto the fit side.
I can feel myself finally shaking all this bullshit off. I’m tired of being sad. Tired of feeling like I should have done more, maybe I should have done less. Feeling like I’m wasting my life away…by actually wasting my life. Today the sun is out, the sky is blue and the sun is warm. Of course there is still about a thousand feet of snow on the ground, but I can feel then end of a cold winter coming.
One of the promises I made to myself was to stop turning down invitations to do things. The excuses for rejecting them varies from, I’m tired, it’s cold, I don’t feel like it…or my last one, I’m too fat to fit into anything remotely “hit the town” worthy. Thankfully I was able to turn it around on Friday and had a good time getting out and spending time with fun people. Couldn’t bring myself to do it on Saturday though…and I guess I’m just going to have to deal with the fact I’m still taking baby steps back to life.
In the spirit of nothing get’s done till you get moving I’ve decided to take some kickboxing classes. I am looking forward to getting out a little aggression as well as becoming a little less jiggly. It’s been a long time since I’ve really taken exercise seriously…and by seriously I mean actually doing it regularly. I am the least serious workout person on the planet. Laughing my way through it all is the only way I know how to do it.
Friday I got my nails done. Usually I go pretty safe with my color choices. I’m a grown up after all. This time I decided to have a little fun with it. My plan was to go with a bright obnoxious pink and maybe some glitter. As I talked it over the the nail lady I felt myself chickening out. My eyes kept leaning towards something a little less..well, crazy. She didn’t let me do it. She brought out the safe color I chose and one she thought would be better. I took her advice. I am now sporting bright pink nails my daughter says belong in the 80’s (remember all the neon?). Two of the fingers have sparkles. I love it. I’m glad I didn’t go safe…I’m glad the girl doing my nails didn’t back down.
I’m reminded that I cannot change where I am, but I have control how I chose to embrace this place. Music is playing, I’m dancing in the house, while I clean. There is a twinge of sadness in my heart, it’s getting less and less every day. No more living there…time to pick my head up and see what’s ahead.
For one thing a kick ass body awaits me. I can’t wait to punch something.