Monday, April 6, 2009

A confession of sorts...

Yes, here it is. A confession of sorts. I've been toying with the idea of getting a tummy tuck. Remove the vesitages of stretched skin and muscle from having twins. It's something I swore I would never be so vain to do - go under the knife for beauty, vanity run amuck. Mr. Darcy knows a guy whose wife had one recently and it turned out really well. It costs a lot less here in Orlando than it does in Atlanta. The doctor even has a website. I've looked at it and read the FAQs.

Two things, well 3 or 4 really are stopping me. #1: I wouldn't be able to pick up my children for 8 weeks!! #2: I wouldn't be able to train or participate in a triathlon for 8 - 12 weeks! #3: It's still expensive. #4: I would be that woman who said she never would but then she did.

So for now, I am confessing the notion of a flat stomach obtained by surgery ... free from the flabby overhang and the stretched out muscles - tight muscles but that look like my stomach starts at my rib cage and has, on occasion, prompted strangers to ask when I was due. Confessing in the hopes that I can move past the idea.

I do wonder at the idea that this has sprung up when I am the most active I have been in perhaps my entire life. Maybe it's the fact that the rest of me gets more toned and more slender the more miles I do, except for this area. Instead it gets looser albeit a little better while it gets a little saggier because the fat underneath is shrinking and it has less to hold it up/out/whatever. So I confess it to hopefully rid myself of the notion. No lifting of children and no training workouts? Perhaps that definition of hell will prevent my mind from wandering this way again...

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