Accepting even the parts I don’t like

Tuesday weight lifting, the usual, cranked through it in record time. Since I’m not running I did the leg exercises that I usually skip, the quad and hamstring machines. And then I stretched out all the things. (Pigeon is getting easier! Woo!)

I expected to be sorer this morning than I am. Yesterday’s yogilates was pretty ab-focused, especially this one series of exercises for the lower abs. For me, my obliques are good, my upper abs are pretty good, but my lower abs are weak. That part of my body’s never been a favorite of mine; whether you call it “FUPA” or “pooch” or “tummy” or “gut” or any number of weird names, the area of my abdomen below my waist is a favorite spot for my body to store fat. (It’s gotta be genetic; my female relatives on my mom’s side all have prominent ones.) I’ve always hated it; it stuck out even when I was smaller. (If anything, it’s less noticeable when I’m bigger, since my belly becomes one unit at that point.)

I remember my mom obsessing about hers when I was younger– she had all kinds of weird “exercises” to try to get rid of it that never worked. In high school, a dancer friend taught me to lie on my back and trace out the alphabet in the air with my toes to work the muscles under there. (Nowadays that just hurts my lower back.) I realize now that there’s no ‘spot-reducing’ I can do to get rid of it– I’d be better off accepting it and moving on. Sometimes, when I feel charitable, I think of it keeping my ovaries warm. :)

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