Posts
But working out brought on the blues for me this morning, due to a couple of perky, blonde, 20-something fitness instructors who were using the nautilus pull machine next to my mat. The nerve.
I gotta tell you, I laughed at Anne Lamott's story of "The Aunties" in her book Traveling Mercies. I mean, I've read it two to three times, to be honest. Her tale of woe about her aging body in an ill-fitting swimsuit always made me feel better. Those teenie-boppers around her will get older, she said, and then they'll see. Oh, yes. And I always thought that was just a funny line.
But now I get it, Anne. Oh, I feel your pain...and your justification. Call me. We can commiserate.
Cause as I was lying on the floor mat, dutifully doing some crunches, stretches, and stability ball exercises, the two perky instructors and their two twenty-something friends started gabbing. They were laughing at their pregnant friend and discussing ways to get rid of stretch marks. And then one of the instructors blurted out: "Yeah, my SECOND kid always acts like that." And I was like, oh, my goodness, how many children does that skinny thing have??"
And that was my ugly thought for the morning, that surprised even me in its intensity.
And then came my second thought, equally as troubling: your body is 36-years-old and starting to droop. If it ever happens to produce a child, said body will likely not spring back into even its present droopy state. Oh, dear. I am now the older woman wishing for the younger body. How did this happen? On what day?
All this time, I've been a big health proponent, eating well, exercising moderately, etc. And I thought I really believed that size does not matter, and that I should try to be a healthy person and leave the rest to God and nature. I used to be called "skinny" and hated it. Now I'm calling someone else the same, if only in my head?
Self-awareness is the first step to recovery, friends. And so I'm going back to chat with God this morning about the important things. He'll correct my skewed view of my tummy and my thighs, and I'll ask him to help me focus on how I can serve him and others today, instead of worrying about the big droop.
Somehow, I'm starting to feel better already...got a body image story of your own? Please post. You, too, Anne Lamott! Ha.
2 comments:
Oh how I am struggling with this very thing lately, as you can probably imagine. In 2005 I was at my ideal weight - 155. I looked great. Over the next couple years I put on about 15 pounds, but I generally carry weight decently, so it was mostly just obvious to me as I tried to find pants that wouldn't give me a stomach ache after sitting for more than twenty minutes.
Then I got pregnant.
I didn't mind getting bigger and I thought the nice round tummy was pretty sexy (as did my husband). But now, six months after my son was born, I'm in the gym for the first time. While I can definitely feel I'm getting my muscle tone back, I am still in size 16-18 clothes (instead of my cute 12s--which I realize seems huge to very slim people, but c'mon, I'm 5'9" and from Germanic stock). I have tons of stretch marks. In the morning sometimes I feel like I'm getting slimmer, but I guess the fat has just migrated in the night. After about an hour of being upright it all settles back into my floppy stomach. It's so depressing, and I'm not normally one to obsess over my body. But I just feel so awful about it right now.
Now, I don't care if I never wear a bikini again (I've always felt a little awkward in them) but right now I wouldn't even get into a 1900-style wrists-to-ankle swimsuit. Bleah.
Oh, the humanity! I love your honesty. Yes, you are one of my friends who doesn't obsess...but some things do seem out of our control at times. I hope the joy of Calvin keeps you smiling anyhow. At least we are still trying to keep in shape. There's that. I watched this Oprah show a few weeks back where she talked about Mauritania--the country where women are more revered the more weight they gain. Interesting concept...not necessarily healthy, huh? :)
Post a Comment