In which I talk again about weight.
Last week my co-worker put up a video of me reading a book, something we do weeklyish at the library. She laughed and told me that as she edited the videos, she noticed that I was wearing the same dress. I don’t mind repeating the same outfits but I was horrified when I saw the new video. In the previous video I looked so much slimmer and now…not so much. When I attended my library conference, I wore the same dress and as I posed for pictures I realized that I have really *have* let myself go! I was feeling confident as I did my panels and chatted with friends but when it was time to share the pictures, all the negative thoughts came out.
I have been deluding myself with Spanx, and the drama of Body Magic which is not unlike this clip from Big Hero Six:
The painful red lines from where the corset like slimmer digs into my arms and the breathless way I am forced to talk because I am not able to breathe was something I resigned myself to having to do. It’s just something *I* do not and oh well. It’s been a long while since I went to the gym and despite my half-assed attempts to do that Shaun T tape, I have crossed the line into territories known as round. I feel like every few months I make a bold declaration saying that I will work out and blah blah, bluster, bluster, bluster and nothing changes. I’m not ready for the change. I would rather eat chips than workout. Soothe myself with gooey cheese than some crunches and I have broken all of my rules about community food at work.
A few months ago I had to shop at a well known “big girl” store for a dress and even though I had a moment in the dressing room, a sobbing inner scream moment, I went on about my business and clothes with tags bearing “X’s” became the norm. The pain in my knee was written off as wearing flip flops (like my science?) and the wiggle of my gut was a comfy place for my cat to rest. I have become so skilled at not seeing what I really look like that when I do stop to primp and preen I am really surprised by the large woman staring back at me.
Last week we had to take my grandmother to the hospital and that was the beginning of me allowing myself to realize that a weak body is not OK. Watching my 90 year old grandmother barely able to walk made me want to take better care of me but I still found excuses for why I was OK chilling on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and a chaser of chips. Looking at my posts from last year, I was all gung ho and ready to get it on and in and do what I needed to do to make myself fit. That fire and passion got lost somewhere between a bag of chips and the feelings of working out being too hard and me not having enough time. I have a few plans which I want to actually do before I boldly declare that I am changing my life for good this time! and setting some crazy goal which will frustrate and disappoint me. I can say that I don’t want to grunt when I stand up, something which I have been doing on a regular, I do want my knee to stop hurting and that number for bad cholesterol needs to be lowered. On the eve of turning 41, I know that I do not want to spend the next year feeling and being heavy, uncomfortable in my skin, seriously contemplating dumb and dangerous all the while my teenager is watching and observing.
This week begins a new cycle of Walk Before Your Run with the Black Girls Run. I plan on finishing this time and actually completing a 5K when the program is finished. I also want to make a decision about the gym. Each month I passively stand by as Planet Fitness deducts its fees, telling myself that I should go. Years ago I loved going to the gym and now it seems like such a chore. Perhaps it’s time to put my membership on hold while I contemplate a new way to work my body?
Changing my attitude and mid won’t be easy since my comfort level is set to chill. I don’set won’t be easy. I hate where I am but am even more afraid of the change. What if I fail? What if I gain even MORE weight? What if I lose weight? How come I can’t have treats?
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