As I took a stroll today, I found myself thinking about my state of being. The fact is that over the last two weeks, I’ve been letting my exercise regime slip. A lot. I’ve been trying to psyche myself up for a run, for a workout, anything to get me back on track, but my attempts have all fallen kind of short. The eye infection I had proved to be an excellent excuse to simply rest and read and be a sloth.

And it felt great, truth be told.

The fact is also that I’ve put back on most of the weight I shed after my ex looked at me squarely and said, “You’re fat.”

I’m right back to square, really.

Today’s realization, while walking and taking a break from my obsessive compulsion to read all five Game of Thrones books in as little time as possible (I’m in the page 700s of book 4), it hit me. I’ve been a ball of anxiety for about the last five and a half years.

Since my life in England fell apart, and subsequently my marriage, and successive relationships and life-plans have all blown up in my face, I’ve taken all of that stress out on my body. I’ve yo-yo’d my weight about six times, and have either buried my brain in booze and club/bar/app hook ups, or beaten myself senseless with miles of pacing/walking/running/starving in all that time.

Since the start of this year, though, that all ceased. I found a steady job. I’ve found a comfy and stable home. I’ve begun an amazing experience with a man who has singlehandedly redefined what it means to be in a shared and stable relationship. In that time, and with these things, I’ve discovered a calm in myself that hasn’t existed. Ever.

It’s like this giant inhale/exhale that has me grounded, at peace, and in a really, really good spot emotionally and mentally. And physically, really. Still, that last bit needs my attention.

I am ok with having given my body a rest. I am ok with taking some time to enjoy where I have arrived. That time, though, has to give way to this next phase.

I’ve recommitted myself to my health more times than I can count. I have announced my intentions, shared my progress, and my frustrations over and over again. I may do that still, going forward, but now – and finally – I understand the difference between why I was exercising before and why I will resume exercising now. There has been a massive, life-changing shift.

Sure, I still want all of the benefits of a body that is a machine. I want strength, power, stamina, sexiness. I want pride in how I present my human form to the world. I still want to see where my body goes. Going forward, though, the reasoning behind and underneath it all is fundamentally different.

The rest has been excellent. These two weeks have been so good for me.

These past two weeks, though, are over.

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