Dear dumb body,
First off, I’d like to note that this is not a body shaming letter by any means: sure, I’d like to improve my own, but I don’t absolutely hate my body. That being said, I can’t help feeling weighed down by every pain, bump, and twist that comes with trying to improve myself.
Today, we went running.
For the last week or so, with this same scheduled run, my legs have been giving me grief, only becoming more unbearable with every step I take. Since beginning our daily treks through Lynden, I feel as though I’ve been getting stronger, and gaining momentum. Now, I feel as though my body is physically telling me no. No. You can’t improve. No. I won’t let you. No. I don’t want you to feel better about your physical strength. No. Just no.
It’s hard enough for me to find the courage to run in public. I’m not stick thin, and I am so aware of every disgusting jiggle my curves make as I speed down the road. For me, it’s humiliating, but I manage only with the idea that it’ll be worth it. Calvin has been a huge help, running alongside me as I putter down the street, sticking by my side, at my set pace even though I know he wants to run faster. I feel like I’m holding him back, so I’m constantly finding myself apologizing for my lack of speed, only to have him reply, “there’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” Have I mentioned how much I truly love him? He’s a rock, motivating me to keep moving forward, and being there through all of it. I don’t want to lose this.
As I said, my legs have been giving me grief as I run. I’ve tried to ignore the pain, and just keep going, but something tells me I should be consulting a doctor. And I’m terrified. I don’t want to have to take a break from achieving my goals. I don’t want to give in to the pain my body gives off when it wants to give up. I don’t want to back down, and lose all I’ve already gained. I don’t want to fix my broken self, lose momentum, start over, and have this happen all over again. I don’t want to quit, and lose all I’ve worked for already. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I know it’s stupid, but I feel like I’ve already put alot into this as it is… So why do I have to be faced with the fear of it being taken away? And all so soon… too soon.
Life is not fair. Our bodies fail us in the ways they gain fat, lose muscle, and simply give up. Our bodies are responsible for the pain we feel when we start to exercise more constantly. Or when it denies us the acts of child bearing. Or when it loses its grip on our hearing or sight. Or when it slowly deteriorates right underneath us as we age. As it sweats when we need it to stay calm, dries when we need the moisture, pimples when we have to look presentable, and wrinkles when we enjoy sun too much.
So to you, dumb bodies. To you lazy bones and muscles that can’t support a change in fitness. To you fat pockets, muffin tops, sweaty foreheads, and pimpled noses. I’m done letting you call the shots. I’m done letting you decide my strength. But, as much as I wish I could just fight through your stupidity, I really wish you could just give me a chance to work around everything you put me through… instead of leaving me wounded and waiting to get back out there.