Before you get offended, the F word that I am referring to is flab. Once I became pregnant and had my boys, my skin had stretched so much, that I hardly recognized it. Combined with unforgiving gravity and my short stature, my body became layers of sagging skin.. So, in my late forties, I am learning to accommodate this unfortunate occurrence.
I did boot camp for years, walked incessantly, did weight training, and none of those even came close to firming me up. I have spent years in a web of self image torture believing that I should look a certain way.
My reality is I am a petite middle-aged woman with curves. I am never going to be a size 2, but there is no reason why I can’t love the body that has been given to me. A while ago, I had stopped working out due to knees that indicated I might be 77 instead of 47. Then I noticed the subtle onset of weight and the unforgiving waistband of my clothes. Frustrated, I challenged myself to do something. So for the last week, I have been on my treadmill doing moderate walking which provides me with a cardio workout without a lot of impact on my aging knees. The no pressure workout allows me to be active, regain some health benefits, and gradually work myself back into my clothes.
Instead of shaming and blaming myself for the body that I have, I am in the process of learning to appreciate this amazing, functional being. I am curvy, lumpy, with a few rolls here and there, but I am healthy. I am happy and my flab is gaining a new swagger.