Just who will I be?

I'm now 42 and I'm an ugly exerciser.

On my birthday I went to the gym. I've been doing interval training and vacillate between the elliptical (which I'm learning to really like), the bike (which I, frankly, can't stand) and the treadmill (which is my old friend).

I am dressed in my mom's sweatpants which are cropped and a nod to the 80F temperature out today, my husband's XXL "Chief's" grey T-shirt and my own white and pink Finest Invitations hat. Runway bound, I am not. I have on no makeup and when I glance in the mirror to my right, I see that my black sweatpants have a white smear on the side. "Maybe from the cool whip last night...?" I wonder and keep walking.

About 22 minutes into my program, my complete opposite commandeers the treadmill next to me. She's everything I'm not. She's petite, her dark curly hair is orderly and she proceeds to crank that baby up to 6.5 and starts to run. She doesn't sweat, she glistens. For God's sake, she even brought her own towel.

For years, I have compared myself to others. And frequently, I wind up falling short. My girlfriend in TC has her house pulled together, my engineer friend cooks homemade meals for her family every night, my sister is paid thousands to speak for an hour. I rarely look at the whole picture when comparing. I just pull out those things that I fall short on and look at those.

I know this about myself.

And here, at the brand new age of 42, I'm doing it again. Comparing myself to this woman on the neighboring treadmill and coming up short.

"I'm sick of this" I think.

"I am my own woman" I say to myself.

"I have lots of great qualities" I think encouragingly.

"It doesn't have to be a contest all the time!" I plead with myself.

"You are on the treadmill"

"You are working out!"

"You are a great person!"

I am mollified and encouraged. I no longer glance over at her speed, or her time. I am content with my own workout, my own image, my own life.

I smile.

And in the next second, my treadmill neighbor picks up her towel and honkingly blows her nose in it.

I chuckle to myself and think "I win".