Running From Demons

I read posts about confidence and I'm left wishing I had an ounce of that.

I see pictures and I wish that I could look as strong, lean, confident, you name it.

I grew up always feeling like the big girl in the crowd.  My friends were thin.  I was not.

I grew up with a very unhealthy relationship with food.  And my body.

As I've become a runner, I can say that my relationship with food and my body has gotten healthier.

However, it still is not great. 

And while I'm thankful to have found a new love for my legs, there are other parts of me that are not as loved.

There are parts of me that, while I would not trade them, have been brought on by carrying 4 babies in my belly.  There is a stomach that, no matter what I do, will never be firm.  There are breasts that, unless enhanced by an already molded top, can disappear.  There is my rear.  My thighs.  My hips...

The interesting thing is that I am most confident when I am naked or in a swimsuit.  When I can see the muscles at the top of my stomach where there is not hanging skin.  When I can see the muscles in my thighs.  When there is no waistband to cut into my waistline.  When there are no boundaries.  Darn Adam and Eve...

Unfortunately, I cannot walk around naked all day.  Unfortunately, my body gets boundaries.  My waistband cuts into my waist.  My shirt touches my extra skin on my belly.  The muscles, the strength that I have is not visible.

My confidence.  My puny confidence.  Is fragile.

While talking with a friend last week I was asked, "How do I get a big butt?  If I start running will my butt get bigger?"  All said while looking at my rear.

All I could say was, "wow.  Thanks.  Are you saying I have a big butt?"

That's all Satan needed. 

He now had his ammo.

And he has been shooting it at me all weekend.

I could barely get through the process of getting dressed yesterday without tears in my eyes.  All I could hear was how big my rear was.  All I could hear was how gross I was.  It was awful.

This morning as I dressed for my run, I contemplated running on the treadmill instead of heading out to the road.  I did that because I didn't want people to see me.  To see my big rear.  To judge me.  To feel sorry for me.

I was under complete attack.

I ended up heading out the door for my 2 mile shake-out.  It was to be 2 miles at an easy pace.

I looked down about 1/2 mile in to make sure that I was still under a 10 minute pace.  I felt like I was running at such an easy pace.

9:03

It felt so good that I just kept it there.

Then, mile 2 and I began to get chased.  I truly felt like my demons were chasing me. 

You can't run fast.

Look at that poor girl on the side of the road.  She sure is trying.

You shouldn't be out here.

You shouldn't be wearing those shorts.

Your butt is huge!

Demons.

Each step got faster and faster.  My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to tell the lies to shut up.  As I tried to prove them wrong.

Faster and faster.

And faster.

I couldn't feel the ground under my feet. 

I could feel the trees flying by my face.

BEEP.

7:48

I quickly showered and headed to church with the kids.  My sweet hubs wasn't home and normally, I wouldn't even attempt church by myself.  But, I knew... 

I knew my heart, my soul, and my mind needed to be with my Father.

He held me in His arms this morning.  As we sangs words of praise He held me close.  My heart was in His hands.  He whispered His words of love in my ear.  He reminded me of the treasure I am to Him.  He reminded me that He made me and He thinks I am perfect. 

It's funny, these insecurities.  We all have them.  We live with them.  And, on our weakest of days, Satan enjoys every word that hurts us.  He throws everything he can at us.  He tries to steal our joy. 

Satan, you're done here.  There is no room for you.  God's got me.  He made me.  He doesn't mess up. 

Thanks.