For any of you who have read this blog, you know I am a cheerful, bubbly, positive, cartoon character of joy. I am basically the smiley face sent with the confetti explosion followed by the laughing so hard I'm crying emoji. But I am also the sad lion.

The sad lion is my crux to bear, the physical reminders of the things I can't do, the aches and pains, the body of a 75 year old I have wrapped in expensive skincare and good vibes until the crone transforms into the young woman like a magic eye poster.

This is a choice I make every single day. It doesn't come to me without effort, without support, and without a almost daily infusion of inspiration.  Every single day I reminded of things I cannot do, physically, because of the medicines I take regularly to keep me alive.

My very wise friend once told me that the body doesn't have a brain or an understanding. So while my mind knows this fact to be true, my body doesn't care. It creaks, protests, aches, strains, rumbles, and groans. I am constantly made aware of my limitations (chemotherapy anemia, fatigue, nausea, mental disorientation, muscle pain - the list goes on and on.) These things hobble me, and it takes a constant focus on gratitude to sustain this positivity I am so known for.

The idea is simple: I do every single thing I can do to focus on what I can do, instead of what I can't. I don't compare myself to other people. I carve into my intentions the ability to be gentle with myself, to feel the burn in my muscles when I can, and the softness of my sheets in my bed when I cannot. On the days when I cannot keep up in a class I remind myself of the days when I cannot get out of bed. On those days I remind myself how lucky I am to be able to stay in bed, when there are people who feel much worse than me who have no choice but to work.

The Reebok perfect never campaign speaks to something deep inside of me. I will never be perfect. I am a frankenstein of gorgeous scars under my sports bra, knitting myself slowly back together only to be torn apart again. I have the metabolism of a 95 year old woman, and a deep and abiding love of candy. But I am alive, I am doing awesome. I have so many more blessings than my scary diagnosis would bely. I don't aspire to be perfect - I just aspire to be as good as I can be, as grateful for whatever level I find myself at that day, as healthy and gentle and challenged as my circumstances will allow, and as happy as I can be while staying true to the burdens of my body.

Perfect Never - because perfect never gets better.

So about the leggings, for those of you who want to know:

I like my leggings like I like everything else in my life - soft, flattering, thin as possible (just kidding!) But really, I like me a legging that keeps me warm but doesn't feel like my legs are encased in sausage casing that leaves seam marks on my inner thighs when I take them off. I want pants I can wear to walk two blocks to yoga in a Chicago winter, but also wear around the house without sweating. Also, normally I am kind of not into patterns, but these ones are soooo flattering I kind of love them. I'm also way into the waistband, which holds them up without squeezing my stomach uncomfortably out the top. I threw it on with my favorite sports bra and my cutest workout sneakers, and then played around in my living room with some pilates and yoga poses that tend to challenge the most comfortable of athletic gear and was so so pleasantly surprised by the results.
These leggings were gifted to me for testing purposes - but I wouldn't write about them here if I wasn't totally into them. They run large like most Reebok stuff (I'm a medium in Reebok, large in Outdoor Voices, 8-12 in Lululemon depending on the cut) so size down for a good fit.

Reebok Cardio Spike Leggings