It was a good hike yesterday. A weekly workout to keep up the hiking muscles for the 6 peak challenge we’ve signed up for. My muscles were just fine, and the breathing regulated itself well. It was just will power that wavered. At 3 hours, it took longer than it usually does. Thoughts about the uncertainty ahead is energy sapping. I have stepped up my daily exercise routine. Built-in a few more minutes with weights. Also been pill-popping additional vitamins and supplements, and staying away from my beloved sweets. Preparing the troops for the battle ahead.

There is something about familiarity.  One gets used to things as they are and one gets comfortable. I have lived with this body for 46 years now, I’m used to it, I even like it most days. Jokes about my tiny breasts don’t make me cringe. I like my tight fit looking little boobs. They make me look athletic, I think. So that’s my self image, an athlete, though I’m not really one anymore. A nature lover too. One who likes few things more than being out there and feeling the freedom and belonging of being one with nature, whether that was with windsurfing then or hiking now. I am not totally comfortable with add-ons, accessories and fussy extras. I have to take off all add-ons, including the wedding ring, when I go to bed. I hate wearing bras. I see them only as a necessary nuisance to be socially acceptable. Can’t have those tits showing. Would have been great if the bra burning feminists managed to turn that fad into a boring norm. So why then do I get emotional at the thought of losing a breast or two? Wouldn’t that solve the bra problem? Wouldn’t that lead to a whole new level of freedom? How much worse would the emotional weakness have been if I had a different self image? One of a sexy, cleavage-showing lady in CFM stilettos. I can’t imagine. It’s a self-defensive thought. It’s all relative. The Keep Calm and Carry On sticker stares me in the face.