I’m so tired of this body. It doesn’t feel like me anymore.
The other night on the treadmill, I finally felt that elusive endorphin high. I was listening to my favorite dance music from 2005, the year of my divorce, when I was in the best shape of my life. I felt free and happy and yes, a little bit sexy.
I took one of my favorite dance classes on Tuesday, and I found a few things I liked about myself in the mirror, too.
I feel the internal shift. I wish I could understand what makes it come and go; it doesn’t seem like any one thing triggers it consistently. It doesn’t appear to be the things I do, but rather, the thoughts I think. And beyond that, it’s not enough to simply think that I want to be in better shape. It’s almost as if I have to believe that I already am before the changes come to make it so.
I want to make the time go quickly now, because I want my body to reflect the “me” that I see in my mind.