Boyfriend in Motivation
Oh, hi! I am sheepishly coming out from under my rock here, semi-ashamed that I’ve been so atrociously remiss in writing in this space.
On the upside: I am rocketing out of my crater in a bikini, a white one, and I am glad to assure you that my excuse for not writing is that my free time has been consumed by love, work, and a newfound passion for working out.
I’ll start at the beginning.
“You can’t go out with a dude who has a stomach like that,” my friend Tracey whispered, as we both gaped at Facebook and a profile picture of my would-be date,”He very obviously spends all his free time in a gym and I’ve dated gym monkeys. When they’re that obsessed with their own fitness, they have no time for you, for anything but pumping iron.”
I stared at the screen, inhaled sharply and decided to go out with him anyway.
I’ve been with the man with the bulging biceps and sculpted 6 pack for three months now, and I know some of what my friend warned me is true: Corey does spend much of his free time in the gym. And the running trails and the steep inclines of mountains. But I don’t begrudge him this: I admire it, and covet his willpower.
He has taught me that humans in excellent physical condition work hard for it: they are conscious of what they consume, they focus intensely on cardio and weight and vitamins and protein carb balance. And he’s also taught me that this focus on fitness, on being in the best shape you can possibly be, is a gift that we can take or leave. I spent several weeks drooling over his perfectly oiled machine of a body and then I decided: I can do this too. I will have several decades when I am 70 and 80, Universe Willing, when my body can be free to droop and fade and recede into its own folds. For now I am young and strong and capable: I have the choice to be strong, firm, and proud of my body.
I started running in earnest several months ago, now I can’t go a day without going for a run. I do between 5 and 10K every day except for Sunday. Recently I’ve added the gym into the mix, and I’m aiming to do weights 3 times a week along with my runs. I want a 4 pack by the end of fall, I’d like to coax my butt out of its pancake position by Christmas.
My boyfriend has helped me to be aware of what I eat: no more cheese and crackers for lunch: my home is now stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables, and I’ve dramatically cut down on bread. I look forward to sweating and working and feeling good about what we eat. I am amazed at the freedom of not feeling the intense need to hide my fatskinny body between the sheets in the dark, before I’m seen.
Between the new, healthy diet and my running, I’ve lost 6 pounds and 2 dress sizes, and I can say, for the first time in my life, I can wear a bikini with unabashed abandon.
The omg-I-hate-doing-this curve? It goes away, this I promise. The feeling of taking control of your body, of doing this yourself, is worth every tear of sweat, every missed chocolate bar, every undignified Jillian-Michaels induced grunt.
I’m here to tell you: you can do this. Go, girl.