I Have No Idea What I Weigh

I have no idea what I weigh and it feels awesome.

As I danced through the kitchen this evening, making up a song as I went with my 7 month old daughter in my arms, I was truly joyful. Through and through, everything about the scene spelled happiness to me. A sizzling in the background, rustling of produce, the shhhh-clunk of a knife on the cutting board. She leaned back, laughing, her two little bottom teeth exposed by her gleeful open smile. I laughed aloud at her chatter, her tiny hands gripping my shirt.

For whatever reason in that moment it clicked: I have no idea what I weigh and it is awesome.

And there, as my daughter and I glided across the tile floor in sock covered feet, I literally felt as though a weighted vest had been removed. I was able to stand taller, easier, my posture better yet more relaxed. I have no idea when I last stepped on a scale. I have no idea what I weigh and I love it.

I had just been telling my husband that I felt lucky in terms of how my body has performed postpartum. Thanks to women who have graced my life in person and by other means I had a very realistic idea of what postpartum life could mean for my athletic pursuits and personal aesthetics alike. I am grateful to every woman who keeps it real and shares her variation of normal as it gave me a real idea of what I could encounter, and if it were something needing physical therapy – or even psychotherapy – what it might require to help bring my body to “pre-pregnancy like” state of fitness health after having a baby. Add events of the past involving how I regarded my body and it becomes clear why this was so important. It wasn’t important just as an athlete or as a woman, this preparedness of what could come had importance to my person as a whole, and how to be prepared to best care for myself during this life change.

Thanks to a fit, healthy pregnancy, good genetics and a stroke of luck, I’ve been fortunate. Able to ease back into harder workouts via yoga then slow stroller runs, it’s been an amazing journey to come to a place where now when I think about my body, I no longer think first about the mirror. Aesthetics are nice but strength is functional. Strength makes me feel powerful. Conditioning makes me feel invincible. The ferocity within is real and I embracing it. I ripped my shirt off with abandon at Sunday’s half marathon. I see power and purpose in my core, my thighs, my legs, and i let it radiate from inside. This may seem I’m going to extremes but no, it’s real. For once the mirror and the scale hold no power. I am the one who holds the power, and oh, what I’m going to do with it.

And I am just getting started.

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