RED HOT FIRED UP

When I started an exercise routine last year, April 6th, 2010 (man, it sure does feel good to say it); it was something I did for myself: my health, my breathing, my energy level and most importantly, my mind.

Your mind, you say? Yes, my mind. I don't know about you, but my mind is directly related to my happiness. When my mind is in order, I am happy. When it's not, oh my, watch out world.

Point being, it had nothing to do with what Vogue or Cosmo or Glamour had to offer because folks in these magazines aren't always "average" size (whatever average really is, anyway).

I just wish society would represent this world as a whole, instead of a cookie cutter expectation of what we "should or should not" be on the runway. There are unrealistic programs on television that encourage dramatic weight loss, as well as, commercials that encourage plastic surgery. Not to mention, the dozens of weight loss pills or shakes or bars or good old fashioned starvation and the fifty-leven (yes, I meant to spell it that way) celebrities that endorse exercise equipment. I mean, really???

When I first started exercising, I remember feeling the need to go to the gym every single day. And I did, for 17 days in a row because I thought, that if I didn't, I would give up. Now? I skip the gym, work in the yard, ride my bike, dance around the house and exercise, isn't that nasty little word I used to mutter under my breath as I WATCHED a workout routine while snarfing down a bag full of whatever was handy. Exercise = life to me, now!

It was a conscious decision on my part to take back my body and mind. I know I'm dramatic, but that's what it feels like I've done. It was something I had to do for myself. My goal is far off, but not as far from when I started and I feel good about me. Not Vogue. Not Glamour. Not Cosmo (although I do like Cosmo).

About ME. Not the image on the cover of the magazine, but myself. All 199 pounds. Size 16. I'm not to the size nine (my goal), but when I get there, and oh yes, I will; I will be the same individual you knew when I was 237. Or heck, even 285 when I was pregnant.

If the world could encourage a little more self-esteem and self-confidence over injections, silicone, makeup and lypo, maybe food would be less of an issue for folks.

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