Irony you sweet sweet vixen. I love that as I sat pondering this blog and where I really want to be, I cam across this article. And it’s cover photo of Prince Fielder, former Milwaukee Brewer making him a known name if only because it got said a lot when he was in town (not, I assure you, because I follow baseball!) (and yes, boldly borrowed from the article linked above where it was borrowed from ESPN I’m sure)
The point- THIS. This is what I want. I no longer hold any pretense of wanting to be “thin” as today’s beauty standards call for. I would like to no longer see “obese” on my medical records. That would be nice. Hell, I’d even enjoy it if I weighed something vaguely close to that which my drivers license claims (145 for those who are interested. Add 40 and it’s accurate. But I’d rather get close to the claim than change it to the actual. That’s normal, right?). I’d love to get me a set of biker’s calves- you know what I mean. Muscle tone for days, but not BULKY. And not on a frame that would make an Olympic biking team because that’s a level of commitment I just don’t have. But toned legs. And a lot less cottage cheese on my ass. Yep. That right there’s the goal. Fit. Healthy. This is what I want out of moving more.
The beautiful thing about my 40th year is that I really no longer feel the need to conform to anyone else’s social or physical conventions. I have nothing to prove to anyone other than myself and I am proving to myself day by day that a fluffy girl can ride a bicycle and feel awesome about it. And that’s enough.
Well that and a nice ass.