I was telling someone at training yesterday how I like to look in the mirror as I train.  Two reasons. One is because I like to see if I’m doing the movements right.  Second reason is because I think I look real good.  Not joking.  I enjoy seeing my solid healthy body move.  My face contort and sweat.  I have been working for about five years to get as fit as I am now.  It’s never been about achieving a certain weight or body shape. I couldn’t give two flying fks what the scales say.  It’s always been about how marvellous training makes me feel - both enjoying the process of hitting and moving and lifting and sweating, and the clarity of my headspace afterwards.  

These days I feel strong and solid and, thanks to my continued and consistent effort at the marvellous environment that is Iron Alley, my body also looks in the best shape it’s been since I was about twenty.  

How can I not feel fortunate to have a body which is healthy and can move?  

How can I not look at my face, with it’s feelings and years written all over it, and feel pleased? 

Yeah mate, I’ve got scars on my face and on my body and kinda flat nose and, these days, wrinkles.  So what?  Yeah I’ve got a wobbly tummy.  So what?  I like myself this way.  

I genuinely like the way I look and most importantly, I like the way I feel.  

Strong. 
Clear.  

I am comfortable, finally, in my own skin.  

Jesus christ it feels good.  

[Thanks so much Iron Alley for making such  beautiful atmosphere, and for making this woman who couldn’t do one sit-up unassisted and had never done any sport or real movement with her body believe that she could.  I can’t quite explain how much this journey has meant to me./]