Knocking The Demon Down
I've always had a weight problem. No, wait, check that. I was skinny in junior high, high school and my early adult years but I didn't know it. That's because I was already brainwashed. I'd been a very skinny baby, but that doesn't count. However, when parents are faced with a 3lb, 13oz infant you do your best to fatten them up. Unfortunately, once I got rolling, I got rolling and didn't stop.
I was a chubby toddler, chunky kiddo then momentarily a normal weight teenager. The sad thing is that most of my classmates were underweight so I thought I was a heifer. They wore size 2's when I was a 6 and later in high school, they were size 6 when I was a 9...oh lawd what I'd give to be in a single digit now. (Side note: I am giving up sleeping late and ignoring that I sweat copiously to try to get down to a single digit size but I'd be Disney channel happy to be a size 10).
By the time I was an adult and actually a normal, healthy weight my self image was so poor when I looked in the mirror all I saw was chub. The demons in society had spun the lie that women aren't beautiful unless they are supermodels or celebrities and I bought it hook, line and Snickers®. Lots of Snickers®.
Fast forward to the present. I'm working hard to reclaim a healthy physique. I'm not asking to look like Stephanie McDonald. I simply want to take the stairs in my building and not be out of breath. I want to wear clothes I feel attractive in, not clothes that cover up what I want to hide. I want to break a sweat while continually whining that my skull may actually be crushed by my weights since my arms are too tired to hold them up anymore. I want to knock down the demon that poisoned my mind and made me believe that I am unattractive and unappealing.
And so in camp this week I pushed myself. I may not have done as well as others but I did my best. I have achy arm "puffs" (thanks, Michelle, for giving a name to the flesh near your armpits that pops up over your tank tops when you need to trim down). My legs are feeling every inch of the Ring of Fire, too. We had a fairly brutal Thursday workout and today's wasn't a cake walk either (because of course we aren't eating cake, are we?). And now the weekend is here and I can sleep late tomorrow, satisfied in the knowledge that I'm secure in my quest for fitness. I hope you feel the same.
I was a chubby toddler, chunky kiddo then momentarily a normal weight teenager. The sad thing is that most of my classmates were underweight so I thought I was a heifer. They wore size 2's when I was a 6 and later in high school, they were size 6 when I was a 9...oh lawd what I'd give to be in a single digit now. (Side note: I am giving up sleeping late and ignoring that I sweat copiously to try to get down to a single digit size but I'd be Disney channel happy to be a size 10).
By the time I was an adult and actually a normal, healthy weight my self image was so poor when I looked in the mirror all I saw was chub. The demons in society had spun the lie that women aren't beautiful unless they are supermodels or celebrities and I bought it hook, line and Snickers®. Lots of Snickers®.
Fast forward to the present. I'm working hard to reclaim a healthy physique. I'm not asking to look like Stephanie McDonald. I simply want to take the stairs in my building and not be out of breath. I want to wear clothes I feel attractive in, not clothes that cover up what I want to hide. I want to break a sweat while continually whining that my skull may actually be crushed by my weights since my arms are too tired to hold them up anymore. I want to knock down the demon that poisoned my mind and made me believe that I am unattractive and unappealing.
And so in camp this week I pushed myself. I may not have done as well as others but I did my best. I have achy arm "puffs" (thanks, Michelle, for giving a name to the flesh near your armpits that pops up over your tank tops when you need to trim down). My legs are feeling every inch of the Ring of Fire, too. We had a fairly brutal Thursday workout and today's wasn't a cake walk either (because of course we aren't eating cake, are we?). And now the weekend is here and I can sleep late tomorrow, satisfied in the knowledge that I'm secure in my quest for fitness. I hope you feel the same.
"Now I know, a refuge never grows
from a chin in the hand and a thoughtful pose
Gotta tend the earth if you want a rose."
~Indigo Girls~
posted by Kay at 3:56 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home