Smuggy McSmugsmug

That's me.

Tonight, I was at the gym, on the cross-trainer (or elliptical, or whatever it's called), 'jogging' away to my favourite tunes. My fancy-pants fiance was on the tready beside me, and we were workin' it. 30 minutes in to a 60 minute workout (of which he was only doing 30 minutes), he increased his time to the 60 to keep me company. What a gem. I felt totally loved and supported, and to be honest, completely effing amazing. In the reflection of the gym's window, I could see my red face. My heaving chest. My sweaty hair. My collarbones :)

Then, a delicious aroma wafted up to the cross-trainer on my left. A quick glance in the reflection revealed a VERY buff gentleman. Woohoo! Went my inner flirt. Sweating it out between two hotties!! The delicious aroma was quickly followed by the stench of cigarette smoke. Mr Buff is a smoker. Ew. Gross. A quick sneaky-peek at the air freshener's timer revealed I had only 5 minutes of torture before the lemony-bubblegum scent was released. Phew!

I took that 5 minutes to really concentrate on myself. Concentrate on keeping up my RPM, my heart rate, and enjoying the music. And then poof... lemony-bubblegum filled the air and I was back in sweaty heaven. Mr Buff was breathing REALLY heavily. I looked over at his display, and his heart rate was at about 145bpm. Mine was going strong at 148bpm. Then I checked his resistance to see just how hard he was pushing himself.... AND IT WAS ON 1!!! 1!!!! Mine is 10, minimum. Sometimes 15. Check his RPM. 63. Mine was 65. So he had been going for 5 minutes, on resistance level 1, at 65 RPM, and his heart rate was climbing to 150 bpm. I had been going for almost 40 minutes, on resistance level 10-12, at 65 RPM, and my heart rate was still in the mid 140s. Could I possibly be more fit than this muscle-bound hunk of a man?

YES, KELLY. YOU ARE. You're not stronger than him, if we're looking at brute muscle strength, but your heart is strong. Your will is strong. Your legs are strong. These things will carry you through life.

60 minutes ended, he was heaving away with a racing heart (over 165bpm!), and I was glowing. A quick smooch with my beloved, and we headed out the door.

This is why I do this to myself. This is why I continue to go to the gym, continue to challenge my cravings, continue to value my self-worth. Little moments like these, when a buff body-builder-type makes me feel small for just an instant, and then I realise that I AM HEALTHY, and, finally, I AM HAPPY.

Love yourself, and others will love you. I am proof that they will.