The Return of the Corn Star

Last week, I really struggled with fitness.

I felt like this most of the week.

I had hiked the Canyon for the second time, and did not feel the need to do anything else for the week.

Except hate on chihuahua's.

While Pilates intrigued and saw some fruit, why bother hiking?  Why continue the quest?  My clothes fit, so...

This is the skirt that started it all.  On 2/7, it rippled on the sides.  Not anymore.

It all boiled down to this:  it was my wedding anniversary to the King.

West Fork hike, last Friday.

For some time now, I'd marked our 17th anniversary as a fresh starting point.  1 plus 7 equals 8...and lately 8's had been cropping up with increasing regularity.

The tire from STS-88.  Seriously.

That meant serious fitness, serious work, serious marriage, serious housework, serious mothering.

I don't do serious well.

So last week was my meltdown (not coincidentally, it coincided with PMS) and this weekend was a mini-getaway.

Bacon, brie, arugula & Dalmatia fig sandwich.  Seriously delicious.

It reminded me that the King is my match.

He hasn't left me despite my tiara, or my repeated demands for selfies.

Yes, it's the start of our 18th year.  Next year is our golden anniversary, because it's 18 years on the 18th.  Given my obsession with 8's, this is significant.  What I could not have predicted was my own mid-life crisis, leaving me questioning everything.

So, I need to let go of hating exercise, since I need the stress relief.

I need to let go of my tiara, and take pride in my home and family.

I need to let go of my doubts and insecurity, and work through the unknown in my new career.

It's a big day tomorrow.

Hoping I'm up for it.

Can I be one again?