I am humbled. Today when I was at the gym I saw a woman who looked to be in her late 50s come in with her husband. One of the trainers came over to help them since this woman was in a wheelchair and, as far as I could see, could not completely control any part of her body. Even her mouth moved awkwardly when she tried to speak. The trainer and her husband got her out of the wheelchair and onto one of the weight machines for her regular routine. It took three people for this woman to complete some pretty basic exercises and I have never been more impressed with anyone.
Most days this would have inspired me, but today it was particularly appropriate. Due to the joys of facebook I have reconnected with several of my old friends from high school. Usually this is nothing but fun, but lately I have reconnected with people who live far more glamorous lives than I do. I was feeling particularly down today and I had about convinced myself that there was no point in going to work out since I will never be as fabulous as my friend the Rockette/Broadway star/lawyer-in-training who works for the U.S. Senate. Yes, that really is one person.
I was also thinking that my hair cut looks a lot like the Albino torturer from the movie Princess Bride (see photo below). And that my thighs are horribly dimpled and pasty. And that my skin is bad. And that I'm starting to have wrinkles and pimples at the same time. Really, it was time to eat some cookie dough and call it a day. But I didn't. I still went to the gym and look at what I found. A woman who refused to give up even though her body didn't cooperate with what I'm sure she expected of it.
What kind of example do I set for my daughter when I think badly of myself? I am strong and loved, even if I'm not going on dates with Oscar winners (still the same friend--really). My body deserves some credit and I love every not-exactly-perfect inch of it.