Whole and Healthy

Hi. I'm Jeane`.

I am forty-one and feeling fine.

Not fine as in "Oh girl, you look fiiiine".

Just fine, as in "I'm doing fine, thanks". I am many more pounds than I was 20 years ago and my body has changed in such ways that I'm quite sure it couldn't ever go back to it's original tautness without going under the knife. I'm not completely resigned to where I am at, neither do I feel a passion for trying to knock myself out figuring out what makes me look like I'm about to give birth at the end of every day (I've deduced the primary cause of my bloatation is breathing in fermented fumes coming from the direction of the pubescent feet in my home). I have zero desire to be a perky and passionate beach body nor do I want to deprive myself of my beloved creamer in my coffee (does it count I only use flavored Coconut milk?). I just want to be a happy person who is somewhat trim, thankful for legs to walk with and isn't afraid to enjoy a good juicy hamburger every now and again. I am what I am, and I'm ok with it.

Mostly.

Today was a wide open day in between two work days. I decided to delve into a little self care (can I admit that phrase, well meaning as it is, always makes me roll my eyes?) and I took a good, long three mile walk. I have not done this in....some time. I put on my old off-brand "athletic" capris, pairing it with a generously sized aqua tee-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a family resort we visited this summer. I figured the bright color would alert distracted drivers and cast a cheerful vibe. The crew neck of the shirt nearly came to my adam's apple, covering my ample bossum with bright red lettering. My cheap socks had stretched themselves despite their underuse, with the heel portion bubbling over the back of my New Balance sneakers, giving the appearance of a surplus of ankle fat. I whipped my oily-at-the-roots-brittle-at-the-tips hair into a ponytail and secured it under the baseball cap of my favorite micro-finance organization (sorry, Peter!). Off I went on a brisk walk in which I breathed in the crisp fall air, felt my thighs quivering at several up-hill stretches and broke but a tiny sweat. This is why, when I came home, I opted against showering and instead grabbed my purse to run to Costco and a rare trip to our new Whole Foods, crossing my fingers I would see no one I knew.

Pulling into Costco, I glanced quickly at my reflection in the rear view mirror before heading in, wincing at the manly reflection looking back at me. Other then my ponytail and sagging chest area, it would be difficult for the common eye to discern my gender. Hopefully, this elusiveness would keep me incognito and get me in and out without recognition. I actually prayed I wouldn't run into any High School crushes (since God doesn't have any other more pressing issues to intervene in).

Breezing through all of Costco without seeing anyone I knew (praise be), I got in the shortest line I could find. In front of me was a woman I couldn't stop staring at. She appeared to be my age, but blond and tan with perfect black capris covering her slender legs and sockless, sleek sneakers on her tiny feet. Paired with her black bottoms, she wore a grey knit sweater, with a deep v down the back, held together with a satin bow at the top. Exposed in the "V" of her sweater was one of those darling, delicate lacy bralettes I see advertised stores I feel too old for. As she moved her grocery items (Kale and carrot juice, naturally) onto the black belt, she chatted easily with the cashier, her blond ponytail perkily bouncing behind her Patagonia ball cap, and I could smell a musky vanilla scent radiating off of her and meeting my nose as I stood there staring with my rotisserie chicken pieces and french loaves of bread in my arms, smelling of a body that should have showered hours ago. I'm sure if the security cameras had been trained on me, it would have captured a look of wonder and bewilderment on my face, as if I was observing a being from another planet.

The beautiful thing, I thought to myself, is that I can stare and admire but not beat myself up for looking like the middle-aged mom sort I am. I'm getting older and wiser and less obsessed about my appearance.  There's far more to me than what I look like. Way to go, me!

This is what I was thinking as I pulled into Whole Foods, in a quest for my new favorite drink.With every step closer to the entrance and into the folds of this Health Food Uptopia, my confidence leaked out of the bottom of my stinky capris. As I squeaked past all the toothpaste tubes void of all the cancerous chemicals found in mine at home, I felt the growing need to keep this trip short. They did not have what I was looking for, so I grabbed a box of their lemon-lime soda instead (as well as a box of seltzer water I pretend to enjoy) and headed to check out, where I also picked up two bags of Justin's Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Mini's as a reward for walking all those miles (two for seven dollars, if you have your Amazon Prime app on your phone which I did not. The cashier took pity and gave it to me anyway). As I started to load the soda boxes into my large, commercial looking van, the cardboard gave way and 12 soda cans fell to the ground, rolling hither and yon, under BMW's and Cadillac SUV's. Millennials in their tweed overcoats and leather satchels were coming in and out of the store, no doubt wondering what a middle aged woman in the parking lot was doing dodging between and stretching out under automobiles in search of dented cans. I felt their pitying glances. One of the lost 12 had sprung several leaks and I had to run it to the nearest trash can, excusing myself as two executives stood talking business in front of it.

Huffing and puffing, after what felt like an eternity of retrieving errant cans from under cars, I heaved myself into the front seat and just laughed. The good news, I texted my sister, is that I got a good post-workout (ie: walk) stretch in and now I was ready to go home and shower. The forecast of looking like a human woman again was looking good.


The walk I took this morning actually was the best thing I could have done for my body and spirit. Even though I could be fitter, thinner, tanner, toner and any other adjective you want to throw in the mix, I was reminded as I put one foot in front of the other, that it is a gift to be able to do just that. It is a sign of health to be able to see the blue sky, smell fall in the air, hear the birds chirp. It is a luxury to know there is a warm shower awaiting me at some point in the day and to know that my worth won't be found at the end of a workout or strict eating regime (even as they, like anything else, have it's place and good purpose!). What I am today is wholly lovable and lovely, just as I am...and just as you are.

Peace and love to you.