Much of my self-worth is tied to my body image.
I move slowly, much more slowly than I used to. My body aches, my back feels like it cannot support itself.
My unwelcome belly hangs over my belt. The mirror reflects back to me a version of my body that I don’t recognise.
Dead after 20 press ups. Barely able to do two chin-ups.
Sadly, so much of my self-worth is tied to my body image.
I make excuses. Tired. Work. Dinner. Beer. Beer. Yet I have time to write this post. I have time to watch Masterchef. Physical health is important to me, but it always moves to the bottom of the list.
There’s always tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will run. Tomorrow, I won’t eat cake. Tomorrow, I’ll somehow not allow the media to shape how I think of myself.
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