Sunday, January 13, 2013
My daughter was born moving. She is a athlete to the bone. She is frankly miserable if she cant get exercise. I, on the other hand am not an athlete, I don't really get a thrill out of finishing, I'm just glad to be done. Exercise feels like a chore to me. This is not true for Brianna, she loves to move. Moreover, she loves to help ME move. She WANTS me to play with her and would love nothing more than for us to go jogging, or hiking, or do yoga every day for HOURS a day. She would think that Biggest Loser Camp and act like it's ACTUALLY CAMP. She'd be jogging up the hills, encouraging others, sweating and smiling.
Mostly her heart belongs to the circus. Movement, Grace, Endurance, Flexibility and PERFORMANCE are all things she gravitates toward. I have no doubt she has years of performances ahead of her. I LOVE to watch them, her dedication and heart and skill make my heart stop. I am PASSIONATE about being there to support her and I want her to be proud of me when I'm there. "Fat mom Fit kid" is almost a cliche' at this point. I want her to feel proud of me when I'm there to give her a hug. I don't want to be the lazy lady that has to find a chair because I don't feel like standing for an hour in the back of a gym.
It's time for me to incorporate and even let her lead me through physical activity. She LOVES this stuff, I can just follow her. I had her take me to the gym today at the apartment complex and we were laughing and playing and being active. While I don't like to "work out" I love the idea of spending time with her being active.
It's going to take me a while to be able to keep up with her but a finally found a totally motivating reason to get my buns moving. When it comes down to it, I want my amazing daughter look at me and feel proud of her mom... because I sure as hell am proud of her.