Determination From a Pair of Pink and Black Shoes

The sunlight shines through my window and sprinkles kisses of light across the blue and silver bedspread.

It’s time to wake up.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and roll my neck from side to side before standing. Through squinted eyes I look around the room – allowing them time to adjust to the new morning light. As my mind begins rolling through the checklist of things I need to do today, I see them: my pink and black running shoes. They giggle a “Good morning” reminder at me from inside my open walk-in closet.

“Ugh, shut up,” I say to them and shut the closet door before shuffling toward the kitchen to make breakfast.

Pop! My bagel thin sits waiting for me in the toaster. It’s hot so I grab it with a quick jolt and drop it on the plate next to the red, plump grapes. I take my time eating my breakfast. It’s Saturday and there’s no reason to rush.

When I’m finished, I rise from the dining room chair to clean my plate and sweep the breadcrumbs into my hand and into the trash. I know there’s nothing keeping me from stalling any longer. Reluctantly, I make my way back to the bedroom.

“Hello, again,” say my pink and black shoes, raising an imaginary eyebrow at me.

“Okay, yeah I get it. It’s time,” I snap back.

I sigh, change into my workout gear, throw my hair into a high ponytail and grab the shoes with force. Although they seemed like the enemy, once on they cradle my feet with care and say, “You can do this.”

The first real voice I hear all morning is Leandro’s. He welcomes me to Rio Brazil with his charming (or annoying depending on the day or hour) accent and enthusiasm. I’m not fooled by his welcoming smile. I know he’s about to kick me into shape.

Today is the beginning of Week One of my Brazil Butt Lift challenge. It’s time for the Cardio workout. My muscles are sluggish at first. They’d rather go back to my pillow top bed. But, it doesn’t take long before my heart beats a little faster, my muscles become a little looser and my mind a little less sleepy. When I am halfway through, the moves come easily and I can feel a sheen of sweat forming on my arms and droplets gathering on my forehead. It’s my body’s way of saying “Thank you” as it rids itself of toxins.

The timer seems to move in slow motion but before I know it the samba tornados, sand sweeps and lambada twists come to a halt. I grab a towel and wipe my face and the back of my neck while breathing deeply.

“That wasn’t so bad,” I say out loud. “Well, not great, but not bad.”

I sit down on the ground where I have just danced and begin to stretch the muscles that worked so hard. On a toe-touch I give an imaginary high-five to my black and pink shoes before unlacing and removing them from my tired feet.

“We knew you could do it,” they say as I place them gently back into the dark closet until tomorrow.

And they’re right.

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