Sarge

I saw my ex at the gym this morning.

My ex trainer, that is. The trainer that whooped me into shape faster than a new recruit at Ft. Knox. The guy did all but shave my head and if he could have done that, he would have. Seriously. I called him Sarge.

I said "hi" in my cheeriest voice possible, hoping that would distract him from the fact that I am not the dedicated gym rat I once was.

"Hello, dear," he said, "how are you?"

"Doing great, " I said, knowing he could measure my body fat just by looking at me.

"Well, good. You look great."

"Oh, no I don't. This year has been one thing after another as far as training goes."

"Well maybe it's your attitude," he said, "because you look well."

"Thanks, Sarge. You look good, too."

"I know."

And right then and there I realized what I got out of that training.

No, your body fat doesn't have to be super low or your abs rock hard, you just have to feel good about yourself and know it. As long as you honestly feel good, you will always look good.