I wouldn’t look good as a praying mantis

I’ve been feeling a little deflated after the scale incident last week, so I did what any girl would do in my situation, I went shopping. Those who know me well know of my love of shoes (I hate feet, shoes make feet look far more acceptable).  I invested in a new pair of running shoes.  Disappointing I know.  I would much rather be tapping out the description of a new pair of stiletto’s.  However – given they are still on the ‘not preferred footwear options’ with my friends the physio, the surgeon, Yoda or Ms P, or the Devil himself – no such luck.  New runners it was (it was still retail therapy).

I’ve decided I am going to continue on this path and sign-up for round 3.  What the fuck?!  Yep, I’m going to do it.  As disheartened as I have been these last few weeks with the scale situation, I feel different.  I feel good.  I’m eating real food, not doing some fad shake or detox drink or pills.  I’m exercising and enjoying it.  I love the fact that I can now do push-ups on my toes (seriously, I can – who’d have thought?).  I’m motivated by the little dashboard I see every time I log into my 12WBT page (sometimes more depressed, but that’s motivation itself right there).  I think this has really helped push me back into training hard and not allowed me to use (my somewhat insanely at times) sore leg as an excuse.
JFDI – Just Fucking Do It – is the 12WBT motto. I like it, it resonates well with me.  I get frustrated with people who want to wallow in their own self pity, or whichever earth shattering drama happens to fall in their lap that particular day.  I don’t do excuses.  I apply the same level of zero tolerance with myself.  My sister Midge often quotes me as saying ‘dry your eyes princess’ and ‘man-up’ – I’m not really that harsh, am I?

So anyway – I am going to do at least another 12 week challenge, and another after that if I have too.  I’ve realised I am never going to be one of those amazingly skinny chics that can wear all the latest fashion trends (I’ve seen a lot of them – do I really want to?  The 80’s ended for a very good reason…).  It’s just seriously not me.  I was born with hips, I’ve worked out they aren’t going anywhere.  They certainly served me well during childbirth.  I am however going to be lean and muscular – but not in a vulgar Arnold Schwarzenegger kind of way (though I’d be happy to sport a six pack).  
A leaner, muscular version of me with hips will be hot – and the Devil is very pleased with this scenario.  I am too.  It feels kind of good to have come to this conclusion, this realisation that I will never ever be a size 6 and possibly never an 8.  Actually, I don’t want to be. I’d look like a praying mantis – all out of proportion (how do those critters fly with their skinny torso and comparatively large arse?). 

I have curves, I’m going to take the next 6 to 18 weeks to learn to love them.

Shrinking - or not

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