The thing about always being made to take care of your family, even when they beat you, is that it breeds a certain steeliness of personality. I used to be very very steely. And I used to be pretty rowdy in a fight too. I was more decisive, because I had to be. And I was more determined, because I had to be that too.
I think I'm getting soft in my old age.
It wouldn't be soo bad- I think a lot of that tough bullshit was maladaptive anyway, it just kept me from looking normal which is why I tried to purge it in the first place-but the fact is that you don't go from certified badass to emoting wet noodle girl without certain consequences. Like periodic bouts of nostalgia accompanied by a strong but totally irrational urge to listen to Nirvana and put yourself through rigorous strength training as if in some weird televsion training montage.
I'm starting to workout again. For me its not about weight loss (though I wouldn't bitch it I lost say...thirty). It's about strength, and probably on another level its about reclaiming some of those tough characteristics that I worked so hard to lose because they may not have been so bad after all. And being a college girl who can throw a 200lb man over her shoulder and onto his back with speed and vigor is underrated.
This, and this alone could persuade me to stuff myself into a powder blue athletic outfit and run around my neigborhood in a large but ultimately fruitles circle. For no pants size do I attempt the dreaded pushups and the thrice cursed situps of doom. Nope-this is not the folly of girlish vanity. This is the folly of true fitness.
Wish me luck.