This morning I bought a bucket of protein shake to help curb my hunger. I hadn’t even heard of I heart my body day.
I went into one of those vitamin super stores, the kind manned by men that can’t move their arms. A hip young blonde with a Chinese letter tattooed on her wrist asked me what I was training for. I looked down at the pram and I felt like saying “the frikking baby and toddler Olympics”.
I’m tired. Sometimes I don’t know where normal stops and not-so-normal begins.
It’s hard to love your body when you’re tired. It’s hard to find time to nourish it, maintain it and treat it with respect. There are too many competing factors – family, study, triple brie and a bad blogging habit.
My body’s taken me up Empire State Buildings and Spanish soccer stadiums. Along isolated Mexican beaches and proposals in a warm Asian climate. It kicked a pink sherrin on the MCG when it was four months pregnant. It’s adventurous, it tolerates my brain and it hasn’t broken down just yet. For that I’m grateful.
Do you love your body?