A Beautiful Work In Progress

by Mirna Valerio

I would train, put in the work, have good days and bad days, get stressed out and overwhelmed with life and still have to train, and finally run the race.

No wonder so many women of my mother’s and grandmother’s generations are physically ill; these women who are the bedrock of their respective families have cracked and fissured. Their foundations crumble and they become sick from years, decades even, of standing and bending and folding and cooking and shouldering without a second thought—an automatic erasure of self, self-worth, health, and longevity, like the bedding planes eroded by seeping water.

Those legs also stood strong to carry her own sleeping children, holding us up, providing a firm place to rest our heads, protecting us from falling, standing at school plays and Juilliard recitals, and walking the walk of the mythical strong black woman everyone needed her to be.

I can only keep going, knowing the storm will end at some point. It’s up to me to carry on living and embodying and embracing the fear. And then, magically, the storm will stop, and I will keep running.

Nobody ever achieved anything epic without doing the requisite work, even if the work itself is humdrum, boring, run-of-the-mill kind of work.

Despite all my questions, the answers were an invitation for me to get my ass up there and continue showing the world that people who aren’t white/male/skinny/athletic-looking, et cetera can participate in these types of events and even be successful, provided that they’re dedicated to the months of preparation needed to at least get to the start line.

Acknowledging and welcoming your self-worth, your own extraordinary power, is incredible. You become unstoppable.

Surviving middle school today is particularly hard. Living every day in bodies that are constantly changing, without worrying about what other people are thinking and how some treat others based simply on appearance, can be brutal.

Your body, whatever its size, whatever its hair color and hairstyle, however its height, whatever its age, is acceptable. Your body is acceptable just the way you are.

your body is a beautiful work in progress.

Instead of being ashamed of doing what you do or being what you are, I ask two important questions: Why not celebrate it? Why not be proud of the fact that the body you are in can do great things?

In many black communities around the world, curvy women are the norm. In fact, we, the BBW (big beautiful women), the women with some ass; the women with curves, bumps, and lumps; the women with shape; the women with breasts; the women with junk in the trunk; the women with thick thighs are the appreciated norm, which allows us not only to be happily curvy but also to enjoy a modicum of freedom from societal pressures to be rail thin with bones protruding from beneath our skin.

Self-reliance and all that shit. That said, there are definitely other factors influencing, creating, and ultimately manipulating our lifestyles.

Do you want to be an athlete? Pass go. Do you feel the need to dress in beautiful clothing that makes you feel attractive? Please continue. Do you think you have the right to be loved, respected, and included in the human race? Yes. Please proceed.

There is still a beauty about simply doing the difficult thing that I will never be good at, for the pure pleasure of having engaged in the process.

Running is a cleansing, life-changing, and deeply fulfilling odyssey that continues to

bring me to new heights and new lows. During this journey, I approach the human being that I am meant to be.

I finished dressing after lubing every possible chafeable area. From my toes to my underarms and other unmentionable areas, I applied the lube in thick layers.

We have a saying in the world of education, more specifically in the area of diversity, inclusion, and equity. It’s an axiom to live by. With it, we will be able to weather many things—inconveniences, moments of shame, those times when we make huge mistakes, when we drop the ball, when our kids embarrass us (or we

them), when some occurrence forces us far from our own personal boxes of emotional comfort and safety. Lean into the discomfort.

To my diversity brain, the phrase means to embrace what is difficult so that you may progress. Welcome what makes you frightened and what makes your heart rate rise. Greet that sense of uncertainty into ...

I did things despite sometimes knowing I wouldn’t succeed. I accomplished goals and surprised myself. I jumped into crevasses and trusted my training, my preparation, and my willingness to adventure

beyond where I had gone before.

This is what I love: the instant camaraderie and the deep, almost immediate friendships formed by the common goal of surpassing

our own low expectations, jumping into uncertainty, and doing what we thought was impossible. This has been my journey.

Always moving, with sense, with purpose, progressing along the spectrum of human possibility.

What we are now is not what we were. Where we are now is not where we will be, unless we want to continue existing in the same reality over and over again.

I am complex. I am more than what my body suggests to others visually.

I have a body that is amazing and strong. It’s flexible and agile. It can carry me across one hundred kilometers and up and down mountains. It has birthed a baby and survived fractures, breaks, and multiple bouts of pneumonia. It can do yoga and Tough Mudders.

This body isn’t meant to stagnate or cease moving. When we stop moving in mind, body, and spirit, we stop learning. When we stop learning, we stop living. Therefore, when we stop moving, we stop living. We stop evolving toward being the humans we are destined to be. This body is fierce, beautiful, and unapologetic. It’s meant to move through the world as it wishes: lifting, walking, and running, rolls and all. Love handles, bouncy boobs, curves, tummy, butt, back fat, and all. I honor her by continuing to move along the spectrum of health and wellness, and in turn she honors me by living vibrantly.

What about taking that huge step now, a step that may seem out of reach for some, by calling ourselves the athletes that we are now, or can be? How about it?

You begin to have a mutually respectful relationship with your body. You honor it by working it, by strengthening it and making it more flexible. And in turn, your body honors you by carrying you with strength and flexibility throughout your life.

Kristen Dieffenbach, a sports psychologist and associate professor of athletic coaching education at West Virginia University, says, “Calling yourself an ‘athlete’ can play an important role in how you see yourself and how you ultimately perform.”

Embrace the title of ATHLETE. A lot of times, nomenclature or semantics make decisions for us. It’s time to take the name of athlete and do something with it.

“Selfie-Affirmation”: I selfie every day that I run or do something that challenges my big, strong body.

And you should continue in pursuit of athleticism no matter what people say. In the end, we love ourselves and our bodies. Maybe not all of us are fully aware of this, but we do. If we didn’t love our bodies, we wouldn’t have this commitment to ourselves. We wouldn’t be doing this thing.