Saturday, November 19, 2011

How do you see yourself?

What a strange day.  In like a lamb, out like a lion.  Oh wait.  That's a different month.  My mistake.
Easter 2003
Much like the weather, today has been a mish mosh.  I slept in, lingered over breakfast, then sprung into action.  I've cleaned out a few bedrooms, set aside boxes for next spring's garage sale, did a turbo speed charged bike sesh, and went through all our old clothes.
Why?  Well, it started out as a mission.  You see, my favorite pair of jeans are a bit snug.  Somewhat due to intense biking (it builds muscle)...and somewhat due to my indulgences with reese's pieces lately (hey, I'm honest.  And human).  I thought about going out to buy a new pair, but I realized I had a few old pairs from a few years ago that would suffice for a month or so until I can wriggle back into my sexy pants.  Still, demoralizing.
That, coupled with the fact that I spent a few hours this afternoon going through old pictures from 2002-2005, got me in a funk (it's for a super secret project :-)).  I even called the hubster in for consult.  As I rifled through the pictures and my size 9/10 "chubby" pants, I felt....fat.  Instead of seeing happy holidays and good times with friends, I was sizing in on my (perceived) double chin and my thunder thighs.
And I asked the hubster..." I still look like that?"  Am I FAT?
Christmas 2002
And his look told me what I knew deep down (no, he did NOT give me the satisfaction of an answer).
I am an idiot.
I need to stop tying my self worth to the mirror.  Or the scale.  As a matter of fact, I banished that bad boy to the closet.  Out.
Have I gained a few pounds from my ideal weight?  Yup.  But thanks to my strength routine and reining in of  the nighttime snacking, I'll be back to fighting weight in no time.
But do those 5 pounds keep me from being happy?  Not in any of the pictures I've seen...and they don't make me any less of a good wife, friend or daughter.  And the hubster grabbed me, swung me around, and let me know that I still look good to him.  What a guy.
And with that, I made some herbal tea and went back to my old photos.  This time, looking at them for the story they tell of who I am, who loves me, where I've been, and the fun that I've had.
And that has nothing to do with pants size.

1 comment:

  1. I know exactly how you feel. I've gotten in very good shape but I still double check that scale almost every day just to make sure. It's as if tomorrow I'm going to wake up and realize it was all a dream and I'm still where I was three years ago.

    It's difficult to exist as an athlete in a society where our perceived image of physical health is so unhealthy. We run, therefore we must weigh X pounds and fit into a Y sized pair of jeans that conform to an arbitrary sizing standard at a clothing factory we'll never see. Or even worse yet, the almighty scale, which tells us how many molecules of matter gravity happens to be pulling towards our feet at that point in time.

    My goal is to find ultimate beauty in the motion of life, rather than the individual frame we're currently fixated on. It's definitely still a work in progress, but it's very much a goal worth working towards.

    You rock as always. Have a wonderful thanksgiving.