These may look like just another pair of sneakers to you. The kind of shoes you might wear when you run to the grocery store, pick the kids up from school, or take a trip to the movies. But they’re not. They’re my magic shoes. Unlike Forrest Gump’s magic shoes, mine won’t straighten out my legs or make me dance like Elvis Presley. They also won’t take me back home with three clicks of my heels like Dorothy’s magic shoes. But their magic is no less transformative or amazing. When I decide to lace up these shoes, I have only one goal in mind – to be the best version of myself.
The girl wearing these shoes battles with the lazy girl in the flip-flops everyday. She doesn’t always win.
She isn’t interested in taking a nap.
She doesn’t waste the entire afternoon watching TV marathons of her favorite show.
If you offer her a doughnut, she’ll probably tell you to go shove it up your ass.
She has no time for self-doubt, insecurities or excuses.
The words “I can’t” aren’t in her vocabulary. But the words “BRING IT ON” sure are.
She doesn’t give a shit what you think of her looks. She doesn’t need your approval – in fact, she’ll probably tell you to go shove that up your ass too.
When she has her magic shoes on, you’d better not ask her for anything. She won’t cook you a meal, blow your nose or listen to you whine about your problems.
When this girl looks in the mirror, she sees nothing but strength staring back at her.
Instead of obsessing over physical imperfections, she says a silent prayer of thanks to her body for letting her do whatever she sets her mind to.
She thinks she’s beautiful.
She knows that the feats she is incapable of accomplishing today, will be what spurs her on tomorrow.
She doesn’t compare herself with other women. She only wants to be stronger and faster than the woman she was yesterday.
She’s crossed a few finish lines in her life.
She doesn’t glow or perspire – this girl fucking SWEATS. A lot.
She likes to play her music loud, though she’s usually too out of breath to sing along.
When those shoes are on, she puts herself first – it’s okay, you can call her a selfish bitch. She doesn’t mind.
Endorphins are her drug of choice…. though she may need an Advil or two at the end of the day.
She aspires to inspire – both herself and those around her.
She knows that some things aren’t possible. But she’s going to try anyway.
Then after she’s succeeded in pushing herself past her limits, she settles her heart rate back down to a normal rhythm, peels off her sweat-soaked shirt, and unlaces her magic shoes. For the rest of the day, she has a smile of satisfaction on her face and a swelled sense of pride because she knows that she defeated the lazy girl in the flip-flops today…. and she looks forward to their battle tomorrow.
I hope she wins.