Saturday, February 23, 2008

Letter to my Body...

There has been a little exercise on BlogHer... Here's my submission.

It seems the two of us have a love-hate relationship these days. Some days, especially recently, I love the way we look together. I love the fact that parts of me are returning to the places they were before you grew my son. I’m not so sure how I feel about the grey hair that has started to show up in random places on my head. Don’t you know we’re not even 30 yet? That’s too young for grey hair. You have been really good to me, so I guess I can let that one slide, especially if you consider the abuse I’ve put you through.

It all started when I was six years old. My grandma told me that lying on hot cement would cause skin cancer. I didn’t believe her, and hope she’s wrong to this day. Why? You remember. I had been running through the sprinkler, and in a secret act of defiance laid my nearly naked wet body on the ground. I heard the sound of the water sizzling, much like eggs frying, as I put you up against the hot cement. I’m sorry about that.

The abuse continued through my teen years when, before the banning of soda and junk food in schools, I filled you with a bunch of crap. There really isn’t another word to describe the Mt. Dew, Bagels, Little Debbie Snacks, Otis Spunkmeyer cookies and pizza I ate daily. That job at Dairy Queen didn’t help either, because the amount of ice cream I ingested would probably scare some people. Thanks for not gaining the 300 pounds I should have gained. I continued the cruelty in my college years, when night after night, I would drink myself silly, smoke like a chimney and deprive you of sleep for days. Those were fun times, but I’m afraid of the permanent damage I did to you in three short years.

How is it that after so many years of abuse and neglect, you are still there for me? I sincerely appreciate all you have done for me. You have been wonderful. You have been extremely healthy, even if I haven’t done anything to help you out with that endeavor. I know that as I get older, I’ll have to do more to help you, so here’s what I ask of you. Could you please send some endorphins to my brain to trick me into thinking exercise is fun? That would help me help you. You know I’ve been trying to eat better, and I’ll continue to do that, just for you.

Oh, and about that thing… You know, that thing that’s been bothering me for a while.. Could you lay off on that… We’ve been trying to, well, that’s kind of a secret, you know, and well, If you don’t lay off of that thing, then it makes it hard to accomplish that other goal we have. You know what I’m talking about. I promise not to do it to you too many more times.

I apologize for all the years I spent wishing parts of you were different. I can blame lots of people in the media for that, but really, it was me. I didn’t see you for how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, because not only have you been extremely kind, (only punishing me that one time with the kidney stone), you’ve also helped to create one of the most important things in my life -- my son. I didn’t realize how wonderful and amazing you were, until that night in October. You, my body, are a miracle in itself, able to sustain not only my life but create another.

Body, I thank you for putting up with me. If I were you, I’d have run away long ago--despite the fact that running would be exercise.

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