I've been thinking a lot about this lately. I'm finding myself in a position where people look up to me. I don't mind, but I'm not always the successful, confident person that people have sometimes taken me for. I have my moments of bravery and success, and the rest of the time usually revolves around epic failures, laughable screwups (no really - I do some of the dumbest things sometimes), and hard work that sometimes results in ohmygodicantdothis tears before I actually finish.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with a beautiful manicure. My nails are broken and chipped. They are cut short and usually unpolished, and I frequently have grease under them. I paint them in colors that look like they belong as traffic vests or paint stripes on the road when I do paint them (usually having something to do with my daughter).
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman with beautiful skin the other day. I have crazy tan lines, scars from falls, chafing, wrecks, and I'm almost always breaking out. Looking at my tan lines might remind you of the maze from the movie Labyrinth. You could play connect the dots with my scars (I'm sure it'd form a giraffe or something similar). I even have one scar now that looks like an epic tramp stamp fail.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with skinny legs. My legs will never fit into skinny jeans, and some outfits are entirely out of the question. I feel like I'm trying to stuff sausage into its casing when I put some of my clothes on. I SWEAR the dryer shrinks my jeans! And skirts? No, I'm still sporting the giraffe on my leg where my kids connected the scar-dots.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with long beautiful hair. I keep mine short and in a pony tail. And it's almost always a mess from working out. There's just no reason to style it because I'm going to be in the pool or pulling it under a helmet in a few hours anyway. It looks GREAT when I get out of the pool! Then it dries and I'm back to a pony tail. Any other time, I resemble a tribble, a porcupine or like I stuck my finger in a light socket. What - you mean frizzy ISN'T in style?
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day in some cute running clothes, and they were very flattering. I wear things that keep me from chafing, show every bulge, and rarely show me in my best light. And my post race high is usually ruined by that e-mail telling me that my pictures are available. Oh YAY! I can order pictures of me grimacing in pain while the parts that aren't stuffed into revealeverythingspandex jiggles around visibly for the camera!
I'm a LOT jealous. That woman over there is a LOT perkier than me - and it isn't the coffee. The most I can hope for now is a good sports bra during training, and something when I'm not training that gives me a shape somewhat resembling normal female anatomy. I'd be flattering myself if I said my training bikini had much to support. At least I have a place for ice to keep my core temperature cool for the longer, hotter races. I admit it, I stuff my bra on race day!
The list goes on. Sadly. I haven't even gotten into the fact that I managed to trip over my bike while it was on the trainer and bash my head on a shelf. I'm a pretty creative klutz like that.
But my priority is to set a good example for my children. Which means that the things above - just aren't that important - in the scheme of things.
True beauty isn't genetic. It is learned.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with a beautiful manicure. My nails are broken and chipped. They are cut short and usually unpolished, and I frequently have grease under them. I paint them in colors that look like they belong as traffic vests or paint stripes on the road when I do paint them (usually having something to do with my daughter).
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman with beautiful skin the other day. I have crazy tan lines, scars from falls, chafing, wrecks, and I'm almost always breaking out. Looking at my tan lines might remind you of the maze from the movie Labyrinth. You could play connect the dots with my scars (I'm sure it'd form a giraffe or something similar). I even have one scar now that looks like an epic tramp stamp fail.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with skinny legs. My legs will never fit into skinny jeans, and some outfits are entirely out of the question. I feel like I'm trying to stuff sausage into its casing when I put some of my clothes on. I SWEAR the dryer shrinks my jeans! And skirts? No, I'm still sporting the giraffe on my leg where my kids connected the scar-dots.
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day with long beautiful hair. I keep mine short and in a pony tail. And it's almost always a mess from working out. There's just no reason to style it because I'm going to be in the pool or pulling it under a helmet in a few hours anyway. It looks GREAT when I get out of the pool! Then it dries and I'm back to a pony tail. Any other time, I resemble a tribble, a porcupine or like I stuck my finger in a light socket. What - you mean frizzy ISN'T in style?
I'm a little bit jealous. I saw this woman the other day in some cute running clothes, and they were very flattering. I wear things that keep me from chafing, show every bulge, and rarely show me in my best light. And my post race high is usually ruined by that e-mail telling me that my pictures are available. Oh YAY! I can order pictures of me grimacing in pain while the parts that aren't stuffed into revealeverythingspandex jiggles around visibly for the camera!
I'm a LOT jealous. That woman over there is a LOT perkier than me - and it isn't the coffee. The most I can hope for now is a good sports bra during training, and something when I'm not training that gives me a shape somewhat resembling normal female anatomy. I'd be flattering myself if I said my training bikini had much to support. At least I have a place for ice to keep my core temperature cool for the longer, hotter races. I admit it, I stuff my bra on race day!
The list goes on. Sadly. I haven't even gotten into the fact that I managed to trip over my bike while it was on the trainer and bash my head on a shelf. I'm a pretty creative klutz like that.
But my priority is to set a good example for my children. Which means that the things above - just aren't that important - in the scheme of things.
True beauty isn't genetic. It is learned.
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