Tuesday: Health and Fitness

Just a moment of weakness…

So, I’m getting married in a few months. And because all I talk about is working out and eating well, I actually have to put my money where my mouth is and be healthy over the next few months, so I look good on my wedding day. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but living in the incredible, delicious city of New York does have its drawbacks; namely, that I eat everything. ALL THE THINGS. I love being healthy, I love being an athlete, but damn, do I love eating. It’s really my other passion; trying new cuisines, being adventurous, learning about new cultures through food. And there are few places on this earth better than New York to indulge.

But back to the wedding; because friends and family seem to view my fiancé and I as a model of (normal, attainable) fitness, they are all using our upcoming nuptials as an excuse for THEM to get in the best shape of their lives. Every day, I get another message from a friend or family member telling me how much weight they lost and how much better they’re eating; it’s like they think they won’t be allowed to the reception unless they wear a size 4 and can do 25 pushups. I mean sure, in a perfect world everyone would have to perform feats of strength on a daily basis, but trust me – any and all are welcome to share in our day, and in our wedding cake. 

Not to mention the pressure this puts on me, the already weirded-out bride-to-be, to look good. If all my friends are freaking out about how skinny they need to be, imagine how I now feel! And I can’t lose weight like a “normal” girl (i.e., just eat small bowls of cereal for every meal and go to spin class) because that’s not how I roll. I absolutely must eat barbecued animals every day and I absolutely must throw barbells around the gym. 

I know, I know. It’s super girly to worry about your weight for your wedding. And I know, “you want to look like yourself” on your wedding day, not a sickly, bony, dehydrated version of yourself. But the pressure’s still there; there will be no less than a gazillion pictures of me from every angle after this shindig, and that little, surpressed, girly voice inside of me will wail if I look chubby in any of them. But I’m determined to go about this the healthy way, going about the exercise that I enjoy and cutting out junk food. So, badass women: Any other suggestions for how to stop thinking about this crap? 



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