This morning, after feeding myself quite heartily, and finally breaking down the weird fast from yesterday, I hit the gym.  With a vengeance.

I have been going to my local community center (here) since about a month after landing in Portland, Oregon.  In that time, I’ve tried to make it a habit to go work out between runs and work around the house and the ever-present job hunt I’m on.  Sometimes, it’s all I can do to get on the treadmill for a bit, sling some weights around, and then I call it a day.  Sometimes, though, it hits me.  Does any of this sound familiar?

  • the music in your ears hits just the right tempo
  • you do one set at your usual weight amount, but then smirk and add 5 or 10 more pounds
  • you do one more set than usual.
  • you look at that machine you know will kick your ass, but this time you try it because you just have to.
  • that final repetition not only leaves a burn in your muscles but a smile on your face

Today, all of these happened.  Today, I felt powerful.  I felt energized.  I felt stronger than I have in a very, very long time.  I put my hands on my hips, looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, I noticed a pretty decent change in my shape.  Those who see me day in and day out, in my normal baggy clothes, might not notice the difference, and that’s okay.  I’m not doing this for them.  I’m doing it all for me.

It’s my perception of myself that is changing.  It’s how I view my self in my skin and my body that is shifting towards a better, healthier focus.

I love this.  If anything, this is motivation to continue

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