So I promised that this wasn’t going to turn into a health nutjob blog, and it isn’t, but I will tell you that I did join Curves the other day. The woman, T., who did the intake appointment and all the measuring and weighing and such was really very nice, and also funny, and she “got” me to the extent that someone you just met can. Very nice. She is a little bit new-agey, talking about negative energy and stuff like that, which I mentally roll my eyes at, really, but she was pretty low-key about it so it was all right. We talked about my diet and what I was looking for and what my motivation was for deciding to join-the usual stuff, I would imagine? Anyway, one of the things I found interesting was that she asked me, several times, about family/partner support, whether I would have any or not, and then she said,”So what about your partner; will he let you do this?” and I said,”huh?” She then said, “You know, will he let you spend money on this, will he let you come exercise, that kind of stuff.” As is typical for me, the filter between my brain and my mouth wasn’t working properly because I think I might have possibly blurted out something along the lines of, “LET me? Are you fucking kidding me?” She laughed, but also made it clear that no, she wasn’t kidding me. That there are a lot of men who would tell their wives they couldn’t spend the money, or otherwise try to sabotage their efforts. I just have to shake my head, even though I get it.
Anyway, I joined, did my first workout yesterday morning and have continued my daily walking and blah blah blah, you don’t want to hear about all of that. And I am not going to tell you how much weight I have to lose or what I am eating or any of that stuff, because again, who cares? The thing I am going to tell you is that I am tired of getting ready for work and ending up in tears because even my fat clothes don’t fit anymore. I am going to tell you that I am tired of going shopping and ending up in tears because I can’t find anything that fits fright…I am tired of looking in the mirror and hating what I see. The funny thing is, a year ago I wrote a post about body image where I talked about how I loved my body, plumpness and all-but then I started to gain weight and now am far beyond plump, but downright fat. And I hate it. I hate the way I feel, not just because of the way I look. So there is my motivation for finally doing something about it-tired of not feeling good about myself.
And maybe that is why I have a better chance than I would have had I done it for any other reason. I mean, I am already in a committed relationship so I don’t need to lose weight to find a guy (which, okay, is a stupid reason to lose weight anyway, in my opinion), and Steve would not ever tell me I was a fatty who needed to unstrap the feed bag and walk away. I don’t have a wedding to lose weight for, no fancy dress I want to fit in, and I am still able to run and play and swing on swings with my kids (I HATE those commercials, by the way). I just want to feel godd, physically, spiritually, emotionally- and they are intimately connected.
That said, I am hungry. H.U.N.G.R.Y. F-hungry (fucking hungry, in case you didn’t get that). One of the things T. told me was that I am not eating enough, therefore my body wants to hold onto the food I eat rather than burn it. And I don’t eat enough during the day, so I am starved when dinner comes around, and I overeat, and there you go. So I have very dutifully been eating a good breakfast, packing my lunch (which I typically do anyway), also bringing to work two snacks of about 100 calories each, and even though I am eating more, I am starving. With hope, this will pass-because for the moment, I am not feeling any better because I am starving.
What does make me feel better, though, is that I am not simply sitting around and complaining, but I am choosing to do something about it. I guess it’s just like anything else in life, where taking action kicks the ass out of sitting around letting things happen, feeling powerless over something that I do, in fact, have control over. God knows there is much in life that I can’t do anything about, but this? Isn’t one of them.
So there you have it. This is my life right this minute, and even though I don’t feel so great about ME right now, I feel pretty good about life in general. I will take off what I put on, I will lovingly slather lotion all over my plump body and tell it I love it, even though I don’t like the way it looks right now. I will gratefully cut my celery and my carrots, eat my salads and my whole grain breads, knowing that this is not the end of the world. In fact, outside of my little bubble, none of this has any significance-because life keeps going on.