I love you to tears

Today marks 102 days of ankle injury! We are closing in on 15 weeks.

That is a lot of time and I am still not healed. The good news is that I haven't seen Steph for two weeks. Our schedules don't match up, but it's not the worst thing because I'm not feeling an insane amount of pain. It seems to actually be getting better and I can go longer than three days without needing a physio session.

On Wednesday at the Jays game I walked up a tall flight of stairs and only clued in at the top that I should be taking it easy because of the ankle. There was no struggle. I didn't need both feet on a single stair. I felt accomplished, and very proud of myself that I could finally tackle them.

That being said, I'm still not 100%. I twinge, and the pain radiates, and I can't wait for it to go away. I know I'll be one of those people that feels weather change in my joints, and I know that the few bumps on my ankle are not likely to disappear.

After a long hiatus (almost 2 weeks) and a hint from my aching hips, I tackled the yoga studio again last night. Guess what? I cried! Of course I cried, that last class was a fluke. It feels nice to be back to my normal crazy self. It wasn't the first cry of the day either. I went to church with my Mimi earlier in the day and balled my way through the entire service as well. Tears are really beginning to be a common theme here on (o)TRT.

Well since I've started, I might as well continue with the water works. If you visit here often, you'll know that it hasn't been the easiest summer for my family. In the matter of a month we have lost five people very dear to our hearts, and have found out very sad news about another sweet little girl. It all takes such a toll, and I've been left to question why. It is a difficult thing to go through on its own, and then add recovery on top of that.

I've found an escape in writing, this blog helps more than you'll know, and doing things that I hope make other people smile. I've left Operation Beautiful notes around town, written for Healthy Living Blogs about what health means to me, and just today submitted a post for Faces of Beauty.

Heather began her site for everyone and anyone to realize the true beauty they possess. For 14 years she suffered from an eating disorder and refused to call herself beautiful. She encourages women and men to write why they are beautiful and submit it along with a makeup-less photo to accompany their words.

Here goes another attempt to help me along:

At a very young age I was praised for my looks. A porcelain doll, with flowing dirty blonde locks and deep dimples; I was the centre of attention where ever my mother took me.

It didn’t last; my sensitive eyes were hidden in tinted glasses to protect them from the sun. My “baby fat” never disappeared and once the baby part was no more, it wasn’t that cute.

From the age of 10 I remember the negative self-talk. I was never pretty in my own skin.

I loved, and still love my personality (I best describe it as sassy) but fifteen years later in a vain world, I still have a hard time accepting the true beauty that I hold on the outside.

I’m the person that finds the most beautiful things in other people, but need little daily reminders to help me realize that I shine from the inside and out.

This is me. No makeup, no touch ups, just me.

 When I look at this picture, I know:

I love my eyes, because they are as indecisive as my mind. They aren’t sure if they want to be green or hazel, and change their colour often.

I love my mole that sits above my lip on the left side, because it breaks up the symmetry of my face even though I fear one day it will grow a witch’s hair.

I love my dimples, because they make me unique. I like that not everyone has them, and they are a true reminder of my childhood ‘cute’.

I love my nose, though you’ll never hear me admit it out loud, because it is off centre and large, and adds so much character to my face.

I love the scar through my left eyebrow, because it reminds me of my clumsiness and makes for a great story. The short of it: I fell down a flight of stairs and hit my head on a rock when I was 3.

I love the imperfections and red spots on my skin, because I’m not trying to be perfect, and they remind me to always wash my makeup off my face before I fall asleep.

I love that I look almost identical to my mother, because she has to be one of the most beautiful people I know.

I love my roots, because they tell secrets. No, my natural hair colour isn’t white!

I love that this post took hours, many tears and many Kleenex to write, because to heal you have to feel, and I experienced every emotion possible.

I am a work in progress, a mess at best, but l love me and my beautiful face. 

I am so thankful for people like Heather and Lindsey for starting such inspirational blogs that connect similar people. Just reading the stories of contributors make my heart smile. There are so many strong people in the health and fitness blog community that have such powerful stories of success. An inspiration to say the least. 

If you ever need a reminder of just how beautiful you are, please feel free to ask me.