Friday, October 9, 2015

Being found.

It's been about a year and a half since my last post. I've put on about 6 pounds in that time, which - in retrospect - doesn't seem like all that much. I've definitely done a lot of celebrating, drank a lot of great drinks, had a lot of great meals, and attended my fair share of BBQs. I biked the whole winter long, covering every inch of my body in merino wool or fleece. Someone gave me a car. That changed a lot of things.

It's funny how easily we slip back into old habits.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not judging people who drive. I drive. I drove, a lot. I drive now when I feel like it because damn if it isn't convenient. But, given my ultra busy schedule on the path to Dr. Of The Sex, biking is about my only form of exercise. When I opt out, I'm opting out of a lot.

I'm back here again because I stepped on the scale the other day. Something I don't often do anymore. It's not really in avoidance, it's just because I don't care. However, seeing that I'd jumped back into the 170s was a bit of a wake up call. Now that I'm older (and arguably wiser), I care less about the numbers on the scale. BMI scales mean nothing to me. I can probably still outrun a fair amount of people. But I think back to where I once was, and I wonder how I got here again. (Guessing it's the Steak Cobb at the Mill chased down with a martini, but I'm sure there are many factors.)

Things are a little different now. I feel conflicted about jumping into weight loss because my feminist identity has developed quite rapidly over the last 5 years. I've always been one... a feminist... but with the rash of body positivity (YES), and fighting back against social standards of beauty (NO), it feels odd to want to participate in something that is mostly socially forced upon me. The requirement to be a beautiful woman to feel you've arrived or had value. The scrutiny.

But I know that I am doing this so I can feel more ME. So I can do more cartwheels and climb more hills. Losing some of this weight helps me to participate in more of the things that truly bring me joy.

And also, my clothes might fit again.

So here I am. Starting over again. Trying to shine the spotlight on fueling my body to perform these feats of ME. The bonus is that my ever-lovely Manpanion, who has been a champion supporter of anything I've ever chosen to do or not do, is on board after suffering from some chronic knee pain over the last several years. We're both looking to lose a few LBs in order to return to a more exuberant lifestyle.

So follow along if you like. Relish in the everyday-woman challenges that focusing on health brings. The struggle to fit in sleep, the nights hunched over desks working on pages and pages of papers that will be read only once, and the teetering back and forth on what I should and should not do to balance the ME I want to be with the current reality of what I am and can do.

My hope is to start out somewhat slow. A series of mini goals that inch me closer to routines that work for my body as it exists in life as life exists in this moment -- which is hurried, rushed, and somewhat of a roller coaster. But people pay good money to ride on those things, so it should be an interesting adventure.

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