Being fit in a functional rather than sexual way means you are entirely capable of being powerful no matter what your height, bust size, shoe size or hair color. You are empowered from the depths of your DNA because you did the work, you earned your place and you walk confidently because of it. A functionally fit You welcomes all sizes, shapes and colors, your boobs and butt are incidental. What we really need to build in the gym is a sense of self and what we are capable of. Believe it!
The hard work is what makes you rich. The hard work brings you friends you would have never bothered to say hi to in passing on the street. They have vastly different backgrounds and world views than you. They live near, but mostly far, sometimes continents and timezones away. They make you think. Sometimes they challenge your beliefs, and sometimes they solidify them. They support you in a way that others who love you can’t because they know the difference between the hard and the easy work you’re doing. They do it, too.
I’m always baffled when someone thinks a blogger who spends 8-10 hours a day putting together content for their site, employing others, writing books, teaching workshops, etc. is somehow supposed to be doing all of this for free and the moment they explore alternatives, they’re told they are “losing their magic”. They are judged because they earn their living from this work. Every blogger that I know who is having success with it tries to turn it into something that yields revenue so they can quit their jobs and spend time doing something that enriches their life. What’s wrong with that, really? If I wasn’t doing this, I’d be back in my cubicle at the investments company in Boston feeling like I’d never reach my childhood dream of authoring books. Isn’t this what we want for others though, to come out from under the clouds and find something positive to get involved in that makes them happy that is also good work that impacts others in a positive way? Don’t we want happiness for others?
Every day, I have a new reason to feel like I’ve failed. How many steps did I run? Did I meet my goal? Did I sleep enough? Did everyone else best my best? Why is everyone else so superhuman that they do 30,000 steps a day? What’s the deal with parachute pants making a comeback?

Sometimes our adventures take us places where we see the same things and take the same photos. But sometimes he and I run parallel to one another, both doing the things we are called to do, both living well and it has taken me forever to understand that this is okay. I was raised in a church culture that didn’t model this, where everything was done “as a family” and that the idea of “running parallel” to one another was absolutely foreign. So for me, this is a learned thing.