Perspective

I was feeling pretty proud of the three miles I had just completed and then I saw her.

She was almost beyond the sun's reach as she placed her hands against a tree trunk and stretched. Her body formed a perfectly smooth and muscular line - the kind of smooth and muscular line I...well, could have had if I hadn't had such a love of white pasta and bacon double cheeseburgers back in my "just ran five miles, most of it hills" days.

At any rate, I froze when I saw her, suddenly embarrassed. Forget about the accomplishment of running three miles, something I hadn't done since before I had become pregnant in 2006. Never mind that my muscle tone was returning and my clothes were becoming looser. I didn't look like her and it made me self-conscious. I probably wasn't as fast as she was. I definitely wasn't as lean. Hell, I'm still carrying around an extra bit on my waistline that makes me look like I'm pregnant -

A light bulb flashed over my head.

Maybe I looked slow and out of shape for my actual state, but if I was a pregnant chick, I'd be pretty awesome. I glanced at her again. She, of course, was not looking at me because she was actually finishing her workout. I decided, however, that if she did look at me, she would probably think, "Wow, I hope I'm still moving like that when I'm in her condition!"

Oh, the games I play in my head.

"When I get sad, I stop being sad and be AWESOME instead. True story."

 

 

 Originally posted at Rabbit Eats and Feats

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