Sometimes, we really need to stop and think things thru and
not act on a whim. I can honestly say
that I had an Alicia Edwards moment.
Yesterday I saw my shirtless reflection on the closet mirror
door and I thought “Holy shit! That’s
me. And I look hot!!” Of course, as we live in a world in which we
constantly need to share, update, brag and document… I just had took a picture
and I shared it on Social Media. My ego
was up there. Like, way way up there.
Then of course I had to take it to another level – because
being able to squeeze into skinny jeans size 29 wasn’t enough… although my
balls have officially gone on strike and claiming oppression and discrimination. So, stupidly I went on an 11-mile run in the
middle of the day at noon in San Francisco 76-degree weather. Eventually, I was so hot and sweaty that I
decided to take off my shirt. Yes, girl!
You heard right. MY SHIRT. So there’s Felicia, in all her glory, running
up and down Embarcadero like a crazy deranged woman with her shirt made into a
turban. Towards the end of my run near
the Banana Republic headquarters, I ran past their display windows which
allowed me to see a very clear reflection of myself. And there it was… the open and honest
truth.
Yes, it’s true.
I did get skinny. But I didn’t
get “Fit”. Where there used to be fat,
now there is a fold of skin that with each stride I took and bounded up and
down, the folds with a mind and will of their own, were going in all sorts of
directions that proved the laws of physics and gravity to be flawed. I nearly fainted; not from exhaustion or
dehydration… simply from realizing that I had ran for nearly two hours, in all
my glory feeling Olympics and shit with an entourage of skin folds that clapped
and flapped for me the entire way. Well,
at least I wasn’t alone. Right?
