This morning I did something I should have done years ago: I took my run in just my jog bra and shorts. How revealing that I waited until middle age to do this. It’s true what my friends have said about claiming middle age–you can become more fierce, fearless, and free.
It was just too damn hot and sticky and my high-tech wicking shirt couldn’t keep up with my perspiration. I felt like I’d been covered up in Saran Wrap. The discomfort was finally enough for me to overcome my lingering body insecurity. In a fit of desperation, I whipped off the shirt and tucked it behind me in my waistband like a fox tale. My skin instantly felt better, and it isn’t hyperbole to say my spirit felt like it was starting to soar.
Like a lot of people, I have long held “issues” with my body. I was a chubby, asthmatic kid who was called “heavy hitter” in middle school because I was an excellent batter but was on the thicker side. It wasn’t until my late 20s when I finally settled into the body I now inhabit. But despite having plenty of time to make peace with this body, lingering insecurity remains.
How freeing, then, to fully embrace the strength and power of my body and full self and to run down the road feeling sun and wind on my chest and stomach.
I am not a fast runner. My spouse and I always joke that in long distance road races we finish “at the front of the middle at the back of the pack.” So, the feeling of freedom was not about speed or grace. It was about declaring a brief reprieve from self-criticism. It was about saying, “I’m enough. Just as I am.”
