Well....I did it. Some sort of accomplishment in that I got to the gym twice this week. It's hard to get back again, the getting up early and being motivated to start the day with exercise. In reality, that part isn't all that hard for me, it's the being organized enough the night before to get all stuff together to make it happen.
But it was SO worth it. I mean, I know how good it is for me to go do my workout, not just physically but emotionally as well. The achey hamstrings from "climbing hills" are signs to me that I did do a decent workout, and that I obviously need to do more. A lot more. But twice this week is a start. Hopefully next week will be three times. It's amazing how much more energy I have during the day from that 30-45 minutes of huffing and puffing.
As for the emotional part...well, I guess it's the cliche' response of knowing that I'm doing something good for myself makes me feel good. But it's so true. Obviously I'm far away from being where I really want to be physically, but I find that I feel just a teensy bit better (read: sexier, prettier, fit...etc.) just from getting to the gym this week.
It's crazy how much this ties into my feelings of the whole "sexier, prettier, fit....etc.". Not having any like for my body right now makes it really hard to want to be the aggressor. To be that visible. Ugh. Seriously ugh. But I need to get past it, and work my mojo and get my confidence back. I mean, I love my body. Not the way it looks but I love the fact that it bore my two sons, I mean, what a wonderful, beautiful, miraculous thing it did with those two boys. And it tried like hell to give me more....so not only do I love it for that, I have to also be forgiving with it.
There is where I struggle. Maybe that's why I don't have the motivation. Somewhere deep down I feel like this body failed me. The ovaries, the eggs and the body that made them. Does it then deserve to be taken care of or treated with respect? I think I've hit on something here, quite by accident while typing. This is something I am going to have to give some thought. Because for as long as I've struggled with the loss of the first baby in April, through the loss of Caoimhe in September, I think I've been pissed at my body. Seriously pissed. In fact, really fucking pissed. Maybe it's time to look at how to forgive it. How to be gentle with it and take care of it. But I'm still pissed.
This is an epiphany. I really believe this must be an issue. I had to switch over to the forum where I post with other women who've gone through what I did and ask if this is normal? Am I normal? I really need to ponder this.
I came on here tonight not knowing what I might write about, and this is the beauty of the blog...it flows and from it I've learned something. Now, to take action.
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