Making Faces

Yesterday I came to the realization that I make horrific running faces. Nose scrunched, puckered lips, snorting… It’s all wrong. But it’s pure and real. Running is raw. I began to laugh at my own expense. So now I’m running and laughing. Probably looking crazy. I began to daydream…

Does anyone look like this?

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And by this, I mean a perfect gazelle?!

And as I mentally wandered off I began to think about my physicality and my insecurities. I began to examine my personal gains in confidence which have stemmed from running. Who told us that when women work out we look flawless? And even when we sweat, our sweat falls as perfect little beads that drip in sex appeal? Is this the ideal? Because i’m being honest with myself and all of you wonderful people,I love to sweat it out, and I don’t mind not looking like I just walked off the cover of Self Magazine. I will leave you will some ads of wisdom courtesy of Nike.

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Love yourself. Be yourself. Even if you resemble Gizmo after snacking past midnight while running.

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