I like let's say 98% of women in North America (those over saturated with magazine/Hollywood culture) don't like something about their bodies. While I will say I work out, I am actually attempting to run a 1/2 marathon in April and a full in October, but great scott I SO don't, nor will I ever look like Jessica Biel or one of those tarts for a million different reasons. But anyways - the issue is for me, one that I continually have to re-examine is - does it matter. My size that is, is average good enough? I try and talk myself down off the panic stairclimber with this - what the hell happens when I can't train, have babies or something else happens and I gain weight and either look like me at this exact moment (pre-extensive running) or heavier. I mean we say his love won't change and yadda yadda - but really?Then again what do we average girls do? Do we settle for the boy with the beer gut 'cause he's the only one who finds us foxy or keep holding on to the belief that our male counterparts are not so brainwashed by all the airbrushing in the latest Maxim to realize that a really woman, with curves, flaws, but really awesome hair and a kick asparagus recipe for ____ (I've got more than one recipe to fit that blank) is a far better catch than the girl with the 8 pack they've been leering at...
All that being said I prefer to step away from all this relational angst because I can - and go with what my roomie said - what the hell would I do with a man - good point, right now I can't do anything with one, other than make my life unnecessarily complicated.
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