Being Busy And Being Active Are NOT The Same Thing!

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I have worn my busy-ness like a badge of honor over the past couple of years. Instead of racking up race miles, I rack up car pool miles. Instead of spin class, I’m busy planning parties as the team Swim Mom. You get the idea? None, and I mean, none of these things burn calories. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make them less exhausting.

I end the day worn out, but probably more mentally than anything else. We are in the season of life where our kids’ activities take over. Are they too busy? Maybe. But they both get great grades and rarely, if ever, complain about going to their activities. When they are home for an evening, they complain of being bored. They thrive on the activity and busy-ness while I’m just going through the motions.

I suspect I’m no more busy than any other mom out there. We’re all going through this life one car pool and homework assignment at a time. Plenty of moms make the time to work out and have the ability to eat just two cookies instead of a sleeve of them. It can be done. No, seriously, it can. For reals.

My former fit self was a runner. She really enjoyed running and I really don’t. The thing is, she hated running in the beginning. She hated sweating. She hated the cold weather and the hot weather. She hated all of it. She also cried when she crossed the finished line at a 5k, beating the goal she had set for herself. She took pride in calling herself a runner and wore it as a badge of honor rather than a suit of shame. She ate normal person sized portions instead of eating like she doesn’t know where her next meal may come from. She did the right things, she just didn’t have the right mindset. She didn’t have empathy for people who were “too busy” to work out. She didn’t have compassion for people who were struggling. Not really.

So, I’m introducing my former fit self (who was kind of a bitch) to my current overweight self who is sick of feeling like crap. I am the girl who did it once and I can do it again. I am the girl who needs to take my compassion with me on my journey instead of contempt. I need to remember when I get there to not be disgusted with my old, overweight self, because she’s the one who started the journey to the fit girl. Without the overweight girl, there would be no fit girl. I’m going to find that happy medium and I’m going to hold onto it for dear life.

Oh yeah, and I’m going to kick the fat girl’s ass.


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