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Sweat

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That’s one of the things that I’m missing out on. Plain, simple, honest sweat.

I’m not talking just a drop or two–I’m talking about sweating through my t-shirt. The waistband of my shorts soaked through, not to mention my unmentionables. I remember those days, some years ago when I was walking nearly every day at a fitness-walk pace, and how proud I was of those sweaty shirts. I’d never worked so hard for anything in my life, and I wore those stinky, sodden shirts back from my walks with a sense of accomplishment. A sense of well-being. I’d pushed myself, and done what only weeks before I’d thought wasn’t possible. And I saw results, too, though it took some time.

Once I figured out one of the missing elements, I got busy yesterday, first with my weights routine and then a vigorous walk that got my heart rate up and made me sweat. It felt good, and sure as sugar dispelled any feelings of self-loathing that may have been lingering.

This week, I’m pledging to sweat. And it’ll be good.

 

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About Kymm

I'm a reader and writer and knitter, a sister, daughter, and friend. This blog is my letter, of love and hate, frustration and joy, rants and praises, to a great big world. You can read it if you want to.

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