I guess I have a hidden optimistic streak.
Anyway, I was pushing baby Hugmonkey on the playground swings and totally eavesdropping on the moms talking nearby. One of them, who looked perfectly thin to me, was talking about losing "the rest of the baby weight". Because her kid was 3 months old already. She announced that having 1 sweet potato for dinner was her solution. Daily. For 8 months.
The last time I had that kind of discipline around food, I was 14 and flirting with an eating disorder.
At that moment, I felt doomed. Doomed to always be huffing and puffing up the stairs. Doomed to wearing maternity jeans forever. Doomed to feel guilty because I didn't have the willpower to eat just a sweet potato for dinner every night.
It took me a year to realize that I missed working out. That maybe being thin didn't have to be my goal. That finding pants that actually fit was okay. That not wanting to eat a sweet potato every night for 8 months didn't make me a bad person.
We joined our local Y and I found some sweats to wear. I was unbelievably nervous on my first visit.
As I climbed onto the elliptical trainer, I noticed a man in the weight area in front of me. He had a walker. A walker! He was old. Possibly a WWII vet old. And the trainer was showing him how to use the weight equipment.
I felt like an asshole.
If a man approximately twice my advanced age could learn to use the weight equipment in front of the college students, sweet potato eaters and that huge weightlifter guy, I really had to nothing to be nervous about. Certainly I could hang out on the elliptical trainer for awhile without anyone laughing at me.
A couple of years later, and still no has laughed at me at the Y. Even after I dropped that weight on my foot that time. Everyone of all ages, shapes and sizes works out and no one laughs at anybody. Only once did I even have someone get competitive with my fat ass on the elliptical, and she's never around anymore.
Possibly because I won.
Anyway, now it's been nearly 4 years since Hugmonkey was born. I don't have to wear maternity jeans or breathe heavy going up the stairs. I'm still fat. But as long as I can keep upping the intensity on the elliptical, I really don't care as much as I used to.
I'd like to get a little more comfortable being photographed, though.
4 comments:
Let me start by saying that you don't look fat to me. When I think of "fat" I think of those people on m"my 600 pound life" and shit. You? Don't look fat.
That being said, in some cultures it is still a sign of status, wealth, and prosperity to be bigger than your average supermodel or 1-sweet-potato-a-day-eating supermom wannabe. In those cultures, people are skinny because they can't afford to eat.
So, my dear, I congratulate you on trying to get healthy rather than trying to achieve some unreachable, photoshopped ideal of "body perfection"
Being healthy is an awesome goal. Also, mohterhood should have taught you that should never say never to anything. It took me over 2 years to lose 55 lbs (thank you Weight Watchers and the book The Beck Diet Solution). Don't throw out your skinny jeans just yet dear friend.
Dude, fat = unhealthy. Someone who's working it out on the dance floor(elliptical) is not fat or unhealthy.
I'm forty-almost-three and I will never again fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. I do hope that I can follow in your footsteps and get my rear to the gym.
Don't stop taking pictures with your kids! I wish I had more of my mom and me.
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