A year ago I started at our local gym, weighing more than I ever had before. And this girl was getting dressed next to me. I glanced over and thought “sjeesh, you’re done, no need to brag, just go home!” And I meant it! Ofcourse I checked myself, but for a moment there I really resented her being there.
Then followed a year of coaching and dieting (I won’t bore you with the details), and now I’m that girl. I get that glance from newbies. Never thought that glance wasn’t so secret, by the way.
But I still can’t do full chin-ups and I f-ing will before I die, I still want to improve core strength, still want to be able to things I couldn’t do before. I like the way I look better now than before, but slowly the whole thing became about something else.
I started to become more pretty. I am now in it to be bad-ass (or at least feel bad-ass), because it’s the one place where I play my Rammstein without feeling ashamed, because it’s where I beat my demons, where I am better than I thought I could be, or where I deal with being sub-par because I didn’t sleep well. It’s not just a physical journey.
People get skinny in the kitchen and the gym, they stay because being skinny/ripped/muscular isn’t the end goal.
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