At the barre on Monday night, I looked in the mirror and watched as I moved with intention.
…the up and down of the bicep curl, making sure to extend all the way to straight and back up, squeezing that bicep in tightly at the top.
…the tuck of my hips, the gentle bend at the knees, shoulders pressing up and down, up and down. Tiny moves. Intentional moves.
…feet in a ‘piece of pie,’ heels connected and lifted high, knees pushing down and out, hips tucked (yet again). Down and hold. Down and hold.
…glancing over at my sister, beside me at the barre; watching her move with such focus, such strength, such intention.
…remembering how far we’ve come in this barre n9ne journey together.
Yes. These were the thoughts that flooded my brain during class on Monday (remember: brain. does.not.shut.off). It was as if I was on the outside, looking in. Watching myself from afar, almost as if in one of those retrospectives you see in the movies sometimes. Surreal almost.
But really? This entire journey has been surreal. I feel ridiculously lucky, blessed to have found my passion – a passion that has instilled such confidence in me and my sis, and a true sense of self. Finally. After 32 years I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I like who I’ve become.
In fact, I kinda love her. I love how strong she is. I love how happy she is. And yes, I love how fit she is. But most of all? I love how “me” she is.
And that makes me so very proud.
I used to refer to this barre n9ne challenge and subsequent journey as a total transformation. But then I stopped and thought about it: a transformation almost makes it sound like I’ve become somebody else...but that’s not quite right.
…I’m still me.
…I’m even MORE me.
…Just as I was intended to be all along.
Moving with intention (another proud moment)… 2012, bring it on, barre-style.