Impossible is a typoRunning my pants off and loving myself along the way

I had my very on Julius Ceasar moment this week claiming victory over myself. I came to the gym, I saw myself for who I could be, and I conquered just a wee bit of the Crazy Fat Girl that lives in my head.

I’ve been taking Pilates on and off for a couple of months now. I adore it for stretching muscles much abused by my recent stint in spin class for the Finish Strong program. And in every Pilates class, I have dreaded the Roll ups where you lay all stretched out and peel yourself off the floor to touch your toes. It has always served as a tangible reminder that my core muscles suck and I’m way out of shape. I could never peel myself off the floor, my feet always come up, I have to fling my arms forward to get momentum going to pull myself up. It’s just always tough, but I always struggle through, knowing one day I’ll get there and it won’t be a terrible struggle.

A Vici moment came after a rough spin class (more on that in a sec, hang with me!). My hamstrings have been way tight for the past two weeks so I’ve been focusing on doing extra stretching after spin classes and running. I was stretched out on the floor, enjoying a whole body yawn and while laying there, I figured I’d struggle through a few roll ups just to get a wee bit of core work in. I gotta sit up anyway, might as well roll up!

I crunch in my abs and boom, feet never leaving the floor, I am sitting up. I did a roll up with very little effort!!!! So of course I had to to 10 more dripping in excitement that I could do this stupid little exercise that has completely vexed me for months. I claim victory over Pilates (at least for the time being!)

My victory roll ups came right after a spin class that almost brought me to tears.

It was a hard class, with a sprinting hill climb to finish off. No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” was vibrating off the mirrors of the studio.

Jamie, my favorite spin instructor pushed us with her perky voice.

Take these pink ribbons off my eyes

She kept shouting- “you’re almost there”

So many reasons for me to run and hide

“You’re almost at the top.”

I’m just a girl, take a good look at me

“Visualize that mountain in your head.”

What I’ve succumbed to is making me numb

“Look yourself down in the mirror and fight to the top.”

I’ve had it up to here!

And I saw that mountain climb in my head. I saw myself, the sleek, fit, happy and beautiful self standing at the top on that mountain just waiting for me to get there, all dolled up in a killer dress and heels that would make my Nana swoon. Tina Turner legs and Michelle Obama guns. And in that moment, I knew that I can get there. I knew that it was all possible.

And in that moment, the Crazy Fat Girl that lives in my head knew it too. Crazy Fat Girl knew that all the drama she throws out hides a fear that it isn’t possible, that she’ll get almost to the top and won’t be able to make it. The fear of the “I told you so”, the fear of failure. And the fear of success. In that moment of fearlessness, Fat Girl, Fit Girl and me because one, and we cranked the resistance knob just a bit more and sprinted to the top of the hill and high-fived ourselves for the ride back down.

Vici baby vici.