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| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Would You Like To Super-Size That Demon Today, Ma'am?
Another dreaded entry about diet, exercise and body image: Crazy perceptions about body image today still, related to the period, I'm sure. Actually, they started last night at Tarzhay again when I was with Max looking for work shirts for him. He spotted some men's cargo shorts (I had been looking for a pair of long shorts--yes, it's an oxymoron, just revel in it, okay?--about a week ago and couldn't commit to the single pair I did find) and I looked at them and decided to buy them based on their being on sale. I didn't try them on, just pulled a pair that are the same size as the pants I bought off the sale rack at Old Navy. (And I'll just go ahead and say that they're men's 32's, which is four inches smaller than Max is in the waist, tho' I only weigh about ten pounds less than he does at this point.) And they fit. So. What does this have to do with anything? Well, it's related to the earlier Tarzhay shopping trip, when I held up the size 11 skirt and knew, knew that it could not fit me. And yesterday, as I was hanging some laundry on the line, I noticed that my fab landlady--who is in her, maybe late 40's and has a perfect California girl's figure (gone to seed a bit, but still mightily attractive)--had hung some pants out and since I have such a hard time figuring out how big I am in relation to other people, I peeked at the size in her clothes. And she and I are the same size. And I was a bit freaked out by that, by looking at her tiny pants on the line, thinking, I could climb into those. It was strange. And what else is strange is that I know--or believe anyway, which is much stronger than simply knowing--that I'm much heavier than other women my size. At least I think I am. I mean, I'm in the mid-180's and wear a 10-12 (depending on the style, of course--damn women's clothes manufacturers) and I think a lot of women in this size range are 20-30 or so pounds lighter. I know that partly I've built up a mass of relatively compact muscle from lifting, but it still seems strange. It seems strange to live all that stuff that you hear: that even if you don't lose a pound, if you build muscle you'll be smaller. That working out will actually become a habit that you will want to keep up. All that shit. I'm living it. And what else? Oh, right: We skipped the gym last night, Max and I did. (It made 4 instead of 5 gym days for this week, so don't think we have been slacking.) And we're on our way there now. But the thing is, I decided that I have to break out of the overtraining mentality somehow--and I have been overtraining and exhibit all the classic mental and physical signs of doing so. So instead of getting all anxious about "skipping" a workout, I decided to bypass the anxiety and reward myself by going shopping.
More lies:
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