My body, my love

I've always kind of hated my body.  Well, since about seventh grade when I sprouted several inches and was taller than all the girls AND boys.  There is something horrible about going to a junior high dance and towering over everyone.  It doesn't say, "Ask me to dance during the slow dance", unless you've got a ladder.  Like that age isn't awkward enough, right?

For some reason, I've never dated or married tall guys.  They were either my same height, a little taller, or even a little shorter (hello, husband!).  It's made me feel like one of the guys or on equal footing instead of like a girly girl.  I always envied shorter girls, or those who were petite, thinking, "Oh, they are so cute and little!"  It's hard to feel little when you're 5'10 and are SOLID (as I am).

Who doesn't want to feel little and cute?

This email though is about my discovery of just how wonderful being tall, strong and sturdy really is!

On long training runs for my marathon my coach told me I was like a "work horse", "just point me in the right direction and I could run forever."  While at the time I didn't know this was a HUGE compliment, I realize now how wonderful this quality it is as a distance runner.

I'll explain.

Before the race I was hanging out with Sheila and Lorraine, gals from Alaska.  Lorraine is maybe 5'4, cute as a button, and as nice as she can be.  She was absolutely freezing and I literally had her tucked into my arms to keep her warm, rubbing her arms and legs to cut down the goose bumps.  I wasn't cold at all as well, I've got some extra padding on my frame that keeps me toasty.  Score one for belly fat!

Poor Lorraine, she's a fast little thing, came out of the gate like a jack rabbit and just took off.  Me, I go a little slower than that and amble along.  I happened upon her though at mile 16, off on the sidewalk with heat exhaustion.  She couldn't tolerate, or her body couldn't take in, the salt packets.  She started getting sick, and dizzy, and ultimately didn't finish the race.  I felt so thankful for my cast iron stomach and just how unflappable my body tends to be, even in the heat, as I didn't suffer any ill effects.

Every five KM they had water bins.  Some of them had the bins half full on empties and you had to literally almost bin dive to try to get actual bottles with water in them.  I was SO glad for my height and long arms because I could reach right in and grab what I needed.  Those cute little petite girls had a harder time and I was giving them extras to be helpful.  Awww, helping the short girls :)

I'm not a fast runner.  I jokingly say I'm a penguin, just kind of waddling along.  My coach meant I could run forever at my pace, and I can.  I'm incredibly consistent runner with my pace.  I don't start too fast, I don't slow down too much, pretty much ever.  I just kind of go along from start to finish quite methodically.  In training runs there were all these fast girls and I'll admit, I had speed envy.  But I kept telling myself, "Run YOUR race.  Run YOUR pace.  RESIST any thoughts about change or not being good enough, just as you are."  On race day, I ran my race, at my pace, and the funny thing?  Many of those fast girls got injured, had a hard time, and many finished after I did.  Being the workhorse who runs at a slow pace, it's a strength, not a weakness.

I was and am SO proud of my body.  I ran 26.2 miles and at no point did I hit the wall, want to give up, or feel like I couldn't go on.  I absolutely love how tall I am, how strong I am, and how sturdy I am.  I'm a later bloomer, I guess, or maybe I just finally gave up on what our culture tells us we should look like or be.

I'm just happy to be ME :)

Now, go hug yourself and the next time you want to criticize your body or look for flaws, just embrace who and what you are, instead of what you're not!