My body is amazing. It is not perfect. It does not look like Jennifer Aniston’s – that’s impossible because I am not Jennifer Aniston. My body looks like it’s mine.
It has soft spots and bumps, knobby bits and scars. Slender wrists and crooked toes.
And it is all amazing.
It woke up at 4am and carried itself 15 miles (of mostly running – it needs fuel and I failed to provide it.) It walked and stood and squatted and reached for 4 hours working at the gym after running 15 miles.
My body is special. It is amazing – glorious. Though not visible, it has strong abs.
Though it looks kind of flat, my derrière houses powerful muscles that allow me to run faster, squat deeper, and withstand hours of impact.
My eyes are different shapes. My dimples – well, there’s just one. My face is not perfect, but it is mine.
I don’t have to be sexy or sultry, taut or tiny. I just have to be me.