I truly, truly believe it. You don't get better if you don't see a problem, so hating your body is entire essential to changing your body.
Unfortunately, I don't hate my body that much anymore. I mean, I'm not posing for any magazine covers here, and I'm not prancing around town in a bikini to show this off, but there's no more screaming when I look in the mirror. Well, there's some screaming of course, but markedly less, that's for certain.
I used to have this tendency to fiddle with the chub on my hips, absentmindedly throughout the day. Instead, now I find myself flexing my stomach and playing with the muscles that run up and down my sides, where my waist has now, well, become a waist. This is an unfortunate turn of events. My hip chub is still there. I know. I just checked. So what made me change my mind about what I think of myself, and how can I go back to loathing myself entirely? Not sure. But a nice long masochistic run sounds like just the ticket. Because remember Ashley, you've got a 1/2 marathon coming up in less than 2 weeks, and at this point there are most assuredly people who will walk faster than you can run.
Now if that's not a fact that should bring on absolute buckets full of shame and self-loathing, I just don't know what is.
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