Ask me how I feel about exercise...and my bulldogs.
My bulldog Boss summarizes how I feel about working out in this picture. Rewind back about 16 years: I was a javelin thrower for The Pennsylvania State University from 1996-2000. In my track and field days, I would do 2-3 workouts a day. All the *new* crossfit stuff that people are doing now? We (my fellow throwers and I) were doing that daily back in 1996. Back in "the day" you could say I was a workout junkie. And all junkies meet the same fate: burnout. I'm sure my muscles would appreciate a few squats or bench presses here and there. My muscle memory might awaken like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White. And yet. I'm approaching 40. And I'm tired. And I'm content. I have a husband that loves me no matter what. I'm not trying to attract any extra attention to my physical self. And I like a nice long easy walk better than anything. So there you have it. I suppose I'm becoming as wrinkly and saggy as my bulldogs. But at the same time, this is what contentment must feel like. And although the bulldogs look sad most of the time, they are just hiding their smile and contentment under all of those adorable wrinkles and rolls. I'm sort of in awe of that. And by default, I believe I must be emulating it on some very real levels. But you know what? The almost 40 year old woman in me says "acceptance is the answer to all of your problems today!" And so it is.