Redemption

Disclaimer: I like to try and keep this site updated with family events and issues, however the winter is getting to be a long one, and there really just isn't anything too new to report on. Something personal came to my head today and I immediately thought "Hmmm, I need to blog this". So for those of you out there that just care about Gage, or what he is up to, skip the following (unless you are really bored at work) and come back later.

I tend to reminisce whenever I hear songs. For instance, Ozzy Osbourne's "Mr Tinkertrain" and "Mama I'm Comin' Home" take me right back to my first (and yes, Beezatches,) icky and mullet-wearing first boyfriend. We would drive all over big-bad N town in the maroon Oldsmobile Delta 88 blaring Ozzy. I think I had a side pony tail, too.
Whenever I hear anything by Candlebox (and if you remember them, you are at least 30, or damn close) I am holding a beer (sorry, Mom) standing next to a blazing bonfire in the middle of the woods with my friends during my senior year of high school. I can remember my very first cassette tape, Survivor, and the day that I received my very own tape of Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet--My 9th birthday.

But I also have songs that bring back BAD memories. The one that still sticks with me (although I'd love to say that it didn't) is AC/DC's Thunderstruck. For those friends of mine that knew me when my hair was big, and I was sportin' the leggings with white loafers (my FAVORITE outfit by the way) they may remember a group of girls who spent a fair amount of time harrassing me my Junior year of high school. I would walk down the hall, towards my locker, and the three of them would start singing "Thunderstruck" (the "Na na na na na na naaaaaah" part) as I was coming close. They were telling me in their own subtle way, that I was fatter than them, and had "thunderthighs".

So anyway, as I'm getting shaky and teary-eyed just reflecting on those days (kidding. I only think about it when I hear the song) the reason for my delving into my past traumas: I was working out today at the Y, doing my FAVORITE class, "Bodypump" when lo and hold...what song comes blaring on during the shoulder work out?!? Yep. Thunderthighs. I mean Thunderstruck.

And I found myself looking back at my reflection in the mirror, sportin' the spandex capri's (I sure like 'em tight, don't I? First leggings, then SPANDEX?!? Oh. I had really bad underwear lines, too!), the muffin top (or 'cupcake' if you prefer) belly roll that seems to bulge even worse when I'm wearing those spandex pants, and holding a weight bar over my head, working on these shoulder muscles of mine. At first I was like, "Dear God. Why this song?!" But then I really thought about it and said aloud (the music is loud, and I tend to swear a lot in this class so I don't think anybody notices anymore) "YES! THIS song!". Look at me now! I don't CARE if my thighs are thundery, my muffin top is sagging over, my triceps are sagging below the elbow. Here I am, at 30 years of age busting my balls in an exercise class and I am getting flashbacks of how much I hated my body back in 1994. Fourteen years ago, when I let 3 girls control my own thoughts of how I perceived my own body. This body, that would take me all the way through a healthy pregnancy and labor, and allow me to run my first 10k. This body, that can groove like no other I've seen on the dance floor (hee hee). This body. MY body.

I don't know. I guess I am proud of how far I've come when it comes to my mindset and giving a holy crap of what others think. Don't get me wrong, I still look at the women in my exercise class and say to myself "I wish I had her butt", or "Her abs are so tight". And I look at my friends and wish I had their hair, or stomach, or small ankles. (And friends-there are MANY more traits besides the three listed, I just can't list them all!) But it's taken me many years to slowly start to appreciate, and to embrace, what God has given me. And, to realize that when it comes right down to it, it doesn't really matter all that much anyway!