I always worry about how I look in my clothes. I like to be invisible, I don’t like to draw attention to myself. So as I was running this morning, I was thinking about how when I run, I don’t care what I look like.
I don’t run fast, I don’t run pretty. I wear what is comfortable, not worrying about the size of my butt, or how big my arms look, or how my tummy would be so much nicer if it were flatter. None of that matters when I put on my Nike running pants which are very fitted. Or my dri-fit running shirt which is also fitted. I pull my mess of hair back in a make-shift ponytail and out the door I go.
My mind is not consumed with thoughts of what I look like as I run down the sidewalk to the park entrance. Or how silly I must look when I am on a walk break, pumping my arms like there is no tomorrow. I’m not worried about how sweaty I am.
I don’t care.
What I do think about is how I am taking that time for myself and how every mile I run is good for me and will go along way to making me feel better in my clothes when I’m not running. I care about the journey that I am on. I don’t care what people think when I am huffing and puffing along or when I get caught up in the moment and I’m singing along with whatever fabulous song is playing on my iPhone. I don’t wonder what people think when I get caught up in the moment and end up crying from the stress relief or me just being the emotional mess that I am sometimes. I am too busy feeling empowered.
I don’t care what people think. All that matters is what I think and I know I am out there giving it my all. And that is all that matters.