Body check
Last weekend in Detroit, I spent more than a few minutes bemoaning the fact that the top half of one entire wall in the hotel bathroom was mirrored. So when you step out of your clothes to get into the shower, there you are in all your... flab. It made me really self-conscious about this body of mine -- the very same body that, I've noticed, isn't fitting so well into the clothes I buy it. So I whined to my co-worker (and weekend roomie) about how everything seemed to fit awkwardly and my body is bugging me and why does this happen?
Then, this morning, I got on the scale. There was the answer in black and white. I have apparently gained a few pounds since the last time I weighed myself (probably a month ago). For lots of people, that would be no big deal. But, and I know this sounds moronic, I am not used to gaining weight. I spent high school and college and a few years after as skinny as a twig; at one point, the doctor wanted me to gain weight and I couldn't. I didn't worry about weight -- heck, I was even confident enough to be a live model for art classes during college (shut. up. - it was the best paying job on campus!). I didn't have any kind of supermodel body, but I was pretty comfortable with what I had.
In the years following college, I slowly put on about 20 pounds, 15 of which were probably good for me. That last five pounds has always bugged me, but not enough to do anything about it. Now comes an extra five more, and all the sudden I'm feeling flabby and bloated and fat. I'm more than irked by my own body -- I don't think disgusted is too strong a word. And that is a really odd feeling, to experience that for the first time at almost-33. I feel like there's this part of American womanhood -- an ugly part that I thought I'd escaped -- that has caught up to me in a hurry. I'm so self-conscious all the sudden... I'm noticing upper arm flab (lunch lady arm! oh god.) and these weird pillowy boobs, and I just don't know what to do about it.
Actually, that's not true at all. I know I need to get my running shoes on more than once a week. I know I need to skip the afternoon cookie and the evening ice cream and have a ripe, juicy peach instead. I need to lay off the steak and think about veggies. And it probably wouldn't kill me to cut back on the beer, either.
So how did I do today? Well, there were no snacks and no beer, but for lunch I had two pieces of leftover pizza... and dinner was Annie's mac and cheese with a tomato cut up on top. Not exactly the picture of a weight loss diet there, though I did refrain from eating the whole box. Ugh. Darren's out of town until Saturday, and I've got hectic days tomorrow and Friday (including at least one rubber chicken banquet dinner, at which the only good food is typically dessert). So it ain't the best time to introduce the New Regimen. But ya gotta start sometime... and, for me, it's now.
Then, this morning, I got on the scale. There was the answer in black and white. I have apparently gained a few pounds since the last time I weighed myself (probably a month ago). For lots of people, that would be no big deal. But, and I know this sounds moronic, I am not used to gaining weight. I spent high school and college and a few years after as skinny as a twig; at one point, the doctor wanted me to gain weight and I couldn't. I didn't worry about weight -- heck, I was even confident enough to be a live model for art classes during college (shut. up. - it was the best paying job on campus!). I didn't have any kind of supermodel body, but I was pretty comfortable with what I had.
In the years following college, I slowly put on about 20 pounds, 15 of which were probably good for me. That last five pounds has always bugged me, but not enough to do anything about it. Now comes an extra five more, and all the sudden I'm feeling flabby and bloated and fat. I'm more than irked by my own body -- I don't think disgusted is too strong a word. And that is a really odd feeling, to experience that for the first time at almost-33. I feel like there's this part of American womanhood -- an ugly part that I thought I'd escaped -- that has caught up to me in a hurry. I'm so self-conscious all the sudden... I'm noticing upper arm flab (lunch lady arm! oh god.) and these weird pillowy boobs, and I just don't know what to do about it.
Actually, that's not true at all. I know I need to get my running shoes on more than once a week. I know I need to skip the afternoon cookie and the evening ice cream and have a ripe, juicy peach instead. I need to lay off the steak and think about veggies. And it probably wouldn't kill me to cut back on the beer, either.
So how did I do today? Well, there were no snacks and no beer, but for lunch I had two pieces of leftover pizza... and dinner was Annie's mac and cheese with a tomato cut up on top. Not exactly the picture of a weight loss diet there, though I did refrain from eating the whole box. Ugh. Darren's out of town until Saturday, and I've got hectic days tomorrow and Friday (including at least one rubber chicken banquet dinner, at which the only good food is typically dessert). So it ain't the best time to introduce the New Regimen. But ya gotta start sometime... and, for me, it's now.
posted by mc at 10:30 PM
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