hey, don't i hate you?

No, not you. 

On Monday I got up and very begrudgingly went running. The begrudging became a little less grudgey when I remembered that I was trying out a new routine and only had to run for 15 minutes.

That's always nice.

Plus I pulled out some old stuff stuck in the back of my drawer and put together a really rockin' running outfit comprised almost entirely of spandex--or a something very closely resembling spandex. And how could that NOT make my world a little brighter, right?

So I got done with the run and felt pretty good about my 15 minutes of fun. So I did some crunches. And yeah, that felt pretty good. So I took a shower. That felt good, too. Then I went to work to be a responsible adult. Basically the whole day was like that commercial for some kind of healthy breakfast item where the chick picks one good thing and it eventually leads to her choosing to wash her face at night and waking up oh-so-refreshed. Yep.

This is the part of the day where I would generally say, You've put in a good day's worth. Grab yourself a large Diet Coke and something crunchy and watch your shows. But Monday was different. It was nice and cool outside (well, below 90* anyways). And I hadn't touched a Diet Coke in nearly 2 weeks. I was feeling strong. 

So I put my spandex back on. Then I took that spandex on a wog around the neighborhood. (Can't really call it a jog, but it wasn't exactly a walk, either...) The spandex and I were both grateful for the time outside. But the whole time I was wogging around I kept thinking, "What am I doing? This is not me. I hate running." I kept picturing my little sister coming to visit me and being like--"What the heck?! No Diet Coke?! No cable?! Frequent wogs?! Spandex??? Who are you?"

Stretching it out after two grueling 15-minute runs. As you can probably tell, flexibility wasn't my best grade on P.E. finals.

Yeah, who am I? I think these new changes are good. I think they will help my body to last longer and shoot straighter and jump higher. Or something like that. But at book club the other day, one of the girls I admire most said, "I love women with flaws. I mean, eat a cookie once in a while!" And I thought to myself, Yeah, I completely agree. Some of my "flaws" I hope I never have to change. Some of them--I hope--add character. Like eating several spoonfuls of dough before popping cookies in the oven. Like sleeping in excessively late on Saturday mornings. Like enjoying sappy ABC Family series on Hulu from time to time. Like believing a movie in theaters isn't worth it without popcorn and a big drink.

Maybe those things can change and maybe some of them can go away. But I hope I never stop loving "women with flaws." I hope I never stop loving myself with flaws. And most of all, I hope my sister still loves me even when I'm wearing spandex.

Do you have "flaws" that you love about yourself?