Once Black, Never Back

 I can no longer do what I once did. My energy and strength have waned. Yet, at 65, I can still dig into the earth, still kneel to plant, still carry 40 pound bags of dog food and mulch. I can push the behemoth vacuum cleaner through at least three rooms at a time, before stopping to catch my breath. I can wrangle two energetic dogs on leash, without letting go. I can walk a few miles without fainting.

Once, maybe 15 years ago, when I was going to the gym on a regular basis, my friend (who was a personal trainer there) confided in me. He said, "I asked a client what her optimal goal was coming to the gym. She immediately pointed to you, and said, "I want to look like her."

I no longer look anything like this person's goal, yet still, I am happy with the body I have. I can walk unruly dogs. I can run if I have to. I can lift 40 pounds of dog food. And while my biceps have become the saggy bottoms of my upper arms, I still consider myself the Black belt, badass mama I once was. 

We are, not only what we see today, but a compilation of all we have been and
done. Like the black-belt martial arts community says, "once Black, never back."