195.2; I Can See Me

Sunday morning I got up about 6:30 and started my day.  I couldn't sleep any longer and Pete had a migraine.  Staying in bed was frustrating for me and hurting him.  I got my gym clothes on.  New ones at that.  A size smaller in sports bras (medium) and shirts (medium) AND pants (large).  I strapped on the heart rate monitor and headed downstairs.

There, I packed up my Trader Joe's reusable grocery bags.  I love the large wide bags that they have for groceries.  They work well at Costco too.  I grabbed my water bottle and headed out.  The gym wasn't anything special.  In fact, I was irritated because mid-run a trainer came up and started talking to me.  I couldn't do intervals while talking and I ended up walking for a mile in the middle of my run.  I still got 5 miles in, but it was a choppy, hard run.

Afterwards I took this photo in my suv.

Post run glow complete with Harley hat!

I stopped and stared at me.  I'm not a cute-post-run-girl.  I exercise ugly, complete with sweat, bright red face, no make up and matted hair.  But this?  It was like looking into myself.  I don't know how else to explain it.  Without the make up and hair, I look like me when I was a kid.  And it made me cry.  An ugly, hiccup cry.  For years I was hiding me under all that extra weight.  It was my protector, my excuse, but I was hiding me.  I am sad for that woman who lost all that time hiding when she should have been flying on a high of life. 

But you know what?  I have freed her.  She flies today.  Maybe not as high as she wants to yet, but she flies.  I foresee lots of flying in her future.  More happiness, less sadness.  More exploring the world and less watching it go by.  More true joy.  JOY.

This morning I took out my baby photo.  I wanted to see if I was really seeing me as a kid or was it my imagination.  Can you see it?

Me at about 2.  Ignore the fact that my Mom wrapped the photo in plastic wrap to preserve it. 

 Or is it just me?