it's a thin line between love and hate

the love-hate relationship that i have with my body has favored hate more than love, since about the fourth grade. regardless who (or what) you blame for that, it's been a struggle that i - and a majority of my friends, female family members and colleagues - have shared and discussed for many years. it has always seemed like no matter what i did - affirmations, diets, exercise, therapy - that hate still stayed strong.

then i started training for this half marathon. it was hard. harder than i thought. i will admit at this time that i was, prior to going out to train, totally delusional about my fitness level. i thought i was waaaaaay fitter than i really was. or am. it was a let down and it increased my body self-loathing. temporarily. as the weeks passed and i was a month in, some of that hatred started to be replaced by pride. i was proud of myself and my body for so diligently adhering to my training schedule. enter a dislocated knee and slightly torn mcl due to a fall at the grocery store, followed by seven very loooooong weeks of NO PHYSICAL ACTIVITY! right about now i'm thinking that maybe my body doesn't want me doing this afterall, hell, maybe the UNIVERSE doesn't want me doing this... what's with the bad luck?!

my mid-july return was tough. my team had been training without me and i felt i'd not just lost all the progress (both physical and mental) i'd made, but in fact regressed some. getting back on the wagon was tough and my knee let me know that every step of the way, trying with each mile, to move the body-love meter just a bit back down toward the love end of the spectrum. i was just getting back into it when i left on vacation with the family for a week, and was able to use that time to focus on my body and my training. my family was super supportive - especially dad, who hoofed it with me much of the time' - and it helped me stay positive when the shin splints kicked in or the knee began to throb. walking a total of fifteen miles on my five-day vacation was a highlight for me, and it made me really proud.

shortly after returning to team from vacation, i hit a huge milestone. a training milestone - 11 consecutive miles - and, possibly more importantly, a fundamental paradigm shift in the way i saw my body! i really marveled at my ability to complete eleven miles of walking, and thanked my body for all it helped me achieve that day. for the first time in my life, i was proud of my body. did you hear (read) that people?! P-R-O-U-D of my body! for the first time i wasn't thinking about this bulge here or that bulge there, how much i hated what i saw in the mirror, or how much other people were disgusted by my "fluff." nope. i was actually proud of - and so very, very grateful for - the strength and stamina that my muscles, joints, skin, bones, cells, had endured to allow me the pride and privilege of saying i'd walked nearly 30,000 steps in three-and-some-change hours. it was the most amazing feeling. for several hours following that training session, my body love meter was off the charts and i experienced a high like no other (not that i have many highs to compare it to).

that first eleven miles was several weeks ago, and the high has dissipated some. in true habitual form i returned to the negative body self-talk of my last twenty years, plus i caught a pretty nasty cold and missed two weeks of training. the big difference is that, no matter how much my mind starts to hate my body - criticize how tight my jeans are, gasp in disgust at my apparent multiple chins when reviewing a photo - i always have that strong memory of pride and gratitude from just a few weeks ago. it's like my heart speaks up now when my mind gets going and says, "hey! you! back off! this body is amazing! it can recover from injuries, it can persevere through illness, it can go the distance (no pun intended) when pushed. this body is strong! and beautiful! and amazing!" i have something to be proud of and something more to motivate me, something intrinsic, something positive. i'm going into my workouts now not just because i feel guilty about what i ate that day and how it will look when it lands on my ass, but also because i know i CAN. and that is a privilege not to be taken for granted.

i have less than four weeks until my event and, now that i know i can do 13.1 - i mean, really do it, i'm focused on doing it as painlessly and strongly as possible. i want to feel great (not almost dead) when i cross the finish line. i've got my eye on the prize and i'm finally seeing my body as my ally!

P.S... look at the registration confirmation i got in my email box!