It is interesting to me that when all this started I thought I knew what would be the hardest pieces for me. Especially at the beginning, I was unhinged by the notion that I would no longer be slim and fit...and what that would mean to my self-worth, or my overall appeal. This is one of those "everything happens for a reason" events because although I will always struggle with that a bit, I have had the fortunate opportunity to prove to myself that I am, in fact, the same person regardless of my size or the definition in my arms.
So what is it I truly miss the most? My strength. The ability to do things for myself without having to think twice. Or the confidence that although my skill in a particular sport or activity may not be the best, my body would carry me through. I would not get wobbly halfway in. I could always manage to run a 5k...not always the most pretty or the swiftest, but I knew I could get it done. I could embark on a crazy ocean paddle race and trust that I would be able to finish, even though I have not yet mastered surfing my 12'6" raceboard.
But, as my sister has repeatedly reminded me, we are made from hearty stock. And I also know that my body has muscle memory and will happily (hopefully) remember all the training I have done and I will regain the strength I once possessed...and maybe even a little more.
So, as I set to the task of exercising again, and starting to lift weights and retrain, I like that I know my strength, and what it represents to me, is far more important than seeing my abs.
But lucky for me, they sort of go hand in hand.