I didn't quit. I did the full run because even though I told myself that I could stop when it got too much, I didn't. I couldn't. Once I was there doing it, I pushed on to the end because I really wanted to finish this programme flawlessly. And as if to add an extra incentive the universe conspired to put a $20 bill across my path in the last 10 seconds of my run. There was no one else around. If I had quit I wouldn't have even gone down that path.
I've found a strength training programme that I really like. It's the 'Get an Action Hero Body' from Valerie Waters. Despite the seemingly easy, low weight exercises, I sweat more doing one set of each circuit than when running.
I started doing it in the first place because of a lingering fear - summer, bikini season. It was 10 degrees Celsius inside the house this morning and I'm scared of a bikini. That seems so stupid to me, as does the nagging doubt that I might fail and that this summer might end up being no different than every other. And yet, I've been twisted up inside for months now about my vanity - it shouldn't matter what I look like; it's about being healthy; don't hold yourself simply to how you look in a bikini.
These fears sit so uncomfortably next to the idea that I can accept my body the way it is. Honestly the less there is of it the more I like it and I still wish that it could be firmer, slimmer, stronger, better. So I love my body, but......Unconditional self love? I don't think so. It feels so wrong to admit the truth that a big part of what I really want is to look better.