Better than a Buddha Belly

Whiny woman alert: 

I'm not fitting into my pants any better then I did before training started. Somehow, I believed that pounding the pavement (and gravel, and track, and grassy fields) might cure me of my Slurpee-induced Buddha belly. It has not.

I have stronger legs, a better lung capacity, and a heightened ability to chase my toddler. But I do not have the sculpted abdomen of an Olympic beach volleyball player.  

I protest.

But before I collapse into a puddle of self-pity, I must remind myself of why I really signed up. If I was running for a toned torso, I would have raised the white flag and hung my shoes up weeks ago.

When I started this journey, I knew I needed something more tangible, more permanent, more worthy than a self-absorbed motivation to get these feet moving.

Luckily, I picked a great charity and an awesome cause to get me moving.

So when ten kilometres becomes fifteen, and fifteen rolls into twenty, and twenty stretches towards the finish line, I think about the people close to me and the families I've met.

First, there's my three year old son, who inspires me every day. Then five of my siblings, who also joined our family through adoption. My father-in-law, my teen-age cousin, my countless foster siblings who have moved on to join new families through the miracle of adoption. Finally, the families I've met in my first two years here at the Adoptive Families Association of BC.

If I need a smile for every mile, or a story to inspire each kilometre, I don't have to look far for inspiration.

And I'll take that (and a slurpee!) over a washboard stomach any day.