How I Came To Terms With My Muffin Top

I hate my muffin top. Don't give me some sappy line about the top being the best part of the muffin. I hate that little roll that reminds me that I'm probably being stubborn and I might need to go a size up in my jeans ... that little extra piece of flesh that is evidence that I like mini Snickers bars. A lot.

I've been working hard on my body and my mind this year. Yes, I know "this year" means all of a month but I'm really trying to be my best me, to be intentional about the things I do and say and to accept myself and to be kind to myself. To move more and to binge eat mini Snickers bars less. Did I mention I like those a lot?

I've done great with my activity level this week. I went for a hard run last night and when I got home, I asked myself "why don't I do this more often?" I didn't have a good answer for that, so I scheduled a run date with a friend for tomorrow morning ... a friend that won't bail out on me or smell my breath for evidence of Snickers minis. I've done two ass-kicking strength workouts that have used muscles I didn't know I had. I'll spare you the TMI but you know a workout was good when your quads scream at you when you sit down to pee. And when you get up again.

I've also been making a little bit of an effort to get my family moving. My husband is all too happy to veg out in front of the television set but he's also usually amenable to busting out the double jogger or going for a walk while our two little dudes go for a bike ride. They've just gotten the hang of their little bikes with training wheels ... sort of.

We decided to change it up over the weekend and go hiking. We went up to Enchanted Rock State Natural Area near Fredericksburg, Texas. If you're ever near San Antonio or Austin and you're looking for the best of Texas scenery and something active to do, you may want to check this out.

Anyhoo ... I was taking a picture of my boys posing on one of the rock formations about halfway up when a nice young woman stopped me and asked if I wanted her to take a picture of my entire family. I handed her my camera, sat down on the rock and said cheeseburger ... actually, I might have said "mini Snickers." I might have a problem, here.

My mind immediately went to my muffin top and my hands flew to my midsection. I'd been working up a sweat hiking and I'd taken off my jacket. Like many of the other hikers, I was wearing fitness clothes (also sometimes known as a mom uniform -- tights and a workout shirt).

I know I don't have the perfect body for spandex tights. Not many people do and I was doing a pretty good job of enjoying the sunshine and the time with my family and focusing on what my body was capable of more than how I looked. But now there was going to be photographic evidence. My muffin top was going to be captured on film.

That's okay, I thought to myself as I thanked the nice young woman and took my camera back. No one will have to see these but me.

When I looked at the pictures later that night, my eye went immediately to my midsection. I pointed out my fat roll. I criticized my appearance out loud and I asked my husband if he thought I looked fat ... which is a stupid thing to ask. I might not have the perfect body but my husband is still interested in seeing me naked on occasion, so there was only one right answer.

I asked myself this: Why shouldn't people see this picture? Why shouldn't my kids get to see and enjoy this little piece of a really good day that was captured on film?


This is a good picture. The scenery is beautiful. My family is happy. I'm a middle-aged woman who has a little fluff around my midsection, my dreaded muffin top.

I just need to get over myself, don't I?

This was a good day. This picture represents a good memory. Yes, I have a muffin top. So effing what?

Jill Robbins is a published author and award-winning writer, speaker and wine snob. She writes regularly on her blog, Ripped Jeans and Bifocals. You can keep up with her on Facebook and Twitter.

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