an apology
Dear Body:
I'm sorry for putting you through this. Sometimes, it kind of sucks. I'm sorry for the side stitches and the days when I don't drink enough water and when I rush through stretching. I'm sorry for the smell and the places where the skin has rubbed off and forgetting my allergy medicine. But mostly, I'm sorry for before. I'm sorry for those years of college where I drove to classes that were three blocks away and ate Jack in the Box and watched TV and expended as little energy as possible because I was too tired to work out. I'm sorry for the years of choosing movies over movement, sitting over sweating, and tapas over trails. I'm sorry for thinking that some people are "athletic" and others aren't, and that there's no point in trying if you're not in the first category. I'm sorry for passing up opportunities to get out and do something simply because I didn't think I looked good in work out clothes. I'm sorry for skipping meals and making up for it at dinner. I'm sorry for Hamburger Helper and Easy Mac and Wonderbread and Sour Patch Kids and Sara Lee Poundcake. I am especially sorry for the Little Debbie Cakes. No one should ever eat those. I'm not sure if they can even be considered food. I am NOT sorry for wedding cake. I will always eat the wedding cake. I am sorry for letting the awkwardness of middle school prevent me from enjoying sports. I am sorry I ever thought it had to be either/or, and didn't figure out until much later that physical fitness could be an and. I'm sorry for spending much more time thinking and talking than actually doing. Most importantly, I'm sorry for not trusting you to be up to the task. For not asking more of you, and having faith that you'll get it done. You're kicking ass and taking names. And we're nowhere near done. Let's rock this. Love, e