Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude

I bit the bullet, swallowed my nerves, found my inner fathlete and signed back up for the Atlanta Track Club today.

I took a long walk today with the dog and despite sweating like a whore in church (seriously – wtf is it 70 degrees in November?) remembered who I am.

I am a fathlete. I am a fat runner. I am a fat cyclist. I am a fat swimmer. I am an Athena Triathlete. I am a lover of spin class and feeling my quads on fire. I am a lover of dry heaving after I’ve pushed myself incredibly hard. I am a a half marathon finisher… while pregnant. I am a 42 mile endurance cyclist that climbed the hills of North GA in pouring rain.

I am a fathlete that busts her ass and defies the odds.

I am ambitious and goal oriented.

I am one bad ass mama that will teach her baby girl that words only have as much power as you give them and not to let a number define her.

I will lead by example and show her the importance of respecting your body.