I used to lift weights regularly. This post from Fit Is a Feminist Issue has me thinking I ought to get back into it. So much positive stuff.
Five years ago I couldn’t walk three blocks without an embarrassing amount of huffing, puffing, and sweating. I would cancel invitations if there was any amount of walking. The shame of falling behind or asking to take breaks was unbearable. That’s if I got close to getting out the door. Frequently, I would cancel because I didn’t like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I would rather stay at home and lose myself in a book.
Growing up, exercise was all gym class embarrassment. Jiggling too much during jumping jacks. Being last at the mile run, every. single. time. Pullup? Ha. This time around I was determined not to fight my body. I wanted to find an outlet of physical activity that brought me joy, that helped me reconnect my body and my mind.
I started working with a personal trainer once a week for half an…
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