A Year in Review – Day 20
I can’t believe I have only eleven more posts until the end of the year. In realizing this momentous year is almost over for me, I also realized that I have to stop doing a quiz every few days — I just don’t have enough time. I still have to talk about Sporty Chic, My month of Maxi dresses, Gamine, Arty Slick, Eco Mama, Bombshell AND reveal my style choice for next year on December 31st. Plus, there’s a Christmas post and possibly some random farm animal hijinks that I’ll need to post about. I’ve never been that good at scheduling things, but I think organizing the posts for this last month I’ve possibly hit an all-time low. Yay, me! I’m breaking new ground everywhere!
So today, instead of giving away something, I’m going to just jump right into “Sporty Chic” – a style that seemed ridiculous for me to wear given the fact that I NEVER exercise. Oh, sure, over the years I’ve joined a gym here or there… I’ve gone to the pool with my kids and watched them take swimming lessons. I’ve even walked to the road to get our mail at least a dozen times. And despite my enduring commitment to exercise, I remain a very flabby person. So to me, taking on Sporty Chic was almost like naming a really large dog, “Tiny” — Basically, just a joke based on opposites.
But you know what? It wasn’t that bad and I learned two very important lessons –
1). Wearing exercise clothes all the time makes you want to be more active and get in better shape.
2.) My body isn’t as hideous as I had imagined.
The second lesson was extremely important after giving birth to three children in less than six years. With each of my three kids, I gained about 60 pounds. So I would start out about 130 pounds and nine months and five thousand boxes of cereal later, I would be tipping the scales at about 190. I would then lose the weight in about a year or two, then get pregnant and start the whole grizzly process all over again. By my second child, my right leg became insanely swollen and hot and covered in varicose veins. By my third child, that leg was something I dragged behind me while yelling, “I am not an animal! I am a human being!” Oh, and I nursed all my kids, which while being healthy for babies, also turns your breasts in dangling cat toys.
So no wonder after having kids I just covered myself up like I was living in Victorian England! After what I had been through I just assumed wearing a pair of shorts to town would cause a rash of public vomiting. But by making myself wear Sporty Chic, I got to realistically take a look at my body and actually be proud of it for going through so much. I mean, seriously, when a fighter gets out of the ring, you don’t hear them say, “Don’t look at my nose! It’s hideous!” But most women after creating an entire person ending up feeling worse about their bodies than they did before they made a soft, chubby, yummy smelling miracle. And that is so messed up.
So thank you Sporty Chic. You made me appreciate what I get to walk around in each day. I still haven’t started to exercise, but if I ever do, at least I’ve got some great clothes to wear.
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