Hey, Girl.
I’ve seen you at the gym, when both of us are sweaty and breathless.
Every time, I smile inside. I know you don’t feel beautiful – who could with hair sweat-plastered to your neck, face red with exertion, and sometimes the day’s eye makeup smudged into an old-school heroine chic look? – but as I pass by, I am always, ALWAYS stunned by your visage.
You’re curvy. Sometimes overweight. Sometimes a bit heavy. Zaftig. At times, outright obese. And there you are, perspiration-soaked shirt, working your ass off to get, or stay, healthy.
And it doesn’t matter what size you are, THAT is sexy as hell.
I never seek your attention. I don’t want to scare you away by letting you know I see you, in all your wet, panting glory, because you might become self-conscious. You might stop doing what you’re doing.
That would be counter-productive.
So no, I’ll probably never chat you up, not even in the locker room. I don’t want you to lose sight of your workout, because that’s all that matters. Not me, not anyone else in the gym; just you, your headphones, and your heart rate.
I don’t want you to realize anyone is watching, because that knowledge might lead you to give up. Instead, I wander past and think to myself “Strong work!” or “Don’t stop now!” or “YOU GO, GIRL!”
I hope you don’t think I’m crushin’ on you in particular. I always crush on women who take charge of their lives, their bodies, and their health. So don’t mind me, you sexy thang. Keep going.
Work it.
Do it!
GO, GIRL!
Never give up! Never surrender!