In today's body-obsessed society, it seems like everyone is concerned with losing weight and being thin. Fortunately, for a lot of sensible people, it's not a big thing- just that little "society voice" in the back of their head, reminding them that really, they shouldn't have that extra brownie for dessert. As long as that never gets out of hand, I think that's probably a good place to be. You can enjoy yourself and your food without guilting yourself or being overly concerned about having obsessions. Except tacos. Tacos are ok to obsess about.
Anyway! For some reason, I've been losing weight this year. I don't have an exact number, but as of two months ago, I'd dropped thirty pounds off of my winter weight, without even really trying. Considering that I'd already come down another thirty pounds from where I'd been two years ago, I feel pretty good. I will be keeping track of it, just in case I've done something silly like picked up a resident tapeworm or something
bizarre like that, but all-in-all, I've mostly just been trying to cut out snacks and superfluous sugars in my day-to-day life. Now that the semesters started, I'm adding to that a two-hour dance class twice a week, and biking to classes, and I feel that I'm living a relatively healthy life.
What the mysterious "they" don't tell you about losing weight, however, is all the little inconveniences that come with having a body that is, in effect, less padded against outside objects. While I can hold my own in dance class, I am not the most graceful person in the world when it comes to moving through everyday life. I run into walls, ricochet off corners, back into doorknobs and furniture edges, and in general, lead a fairly high-contact life. Back when I was around the 200 lb mark, this was no big deal. I'd absorb the impact, bruise slightly, and get on with things. Now, however, the impact is much closer to bones and muscle, and for once in my life, I'm starting to remember how I got all the bruises on me at any given time, because they HURT!
Even simple little things like resting my elbows on my desk as I'm studying, sitting on concrete, and lying on the floor on my stomach to read the paper- all of these are a lot less comfortable when you don't have ample layers of cushioning already attached to you. One of my neighbors who has a tendency to play his music far too loudly for far too long needed a reminder to tone it down the other night, and I felt like I nearly broke my hand, pounding on the wall (I know it's not nice, but the guy never answers his door, and responds to thumps on the wall, soooo....)
I've never been one to desire being stick-thin. For starters, I was a scrawny kid (fat baby though, go figure), and I distinctly remember having the same problems with all of these bumps and bruises and the inability to sit comfortably on the floor. For seconders (yes, seconders), I love food. I am a cranky, cranky woman when I don't eat, and I flat-out just love the taste, smell, and texture of good food. There is no way I am giving that up for some kooky ideal of beauty.
Moreover, I absolutely disagree with the idea that scrawny is beautiful. I've always been a bit of a tomboy, and certainly a lot of a do-it-myself'er, so the thought of wafting around on a breath of wind and having to ask for help just to open a jar, much less to do something like gut and replace the insides of a toilet, or repair drywall, seriously does not appeal to me. Competence, capability, and being able to put someone through said wall on my own if I need to is more what I have in mind when it comes to being attractive. I just wish I could pick up some grace to counteract the lack of padding!
Someday... this will happen. And I'm sure anyone in the area will look at me like I'm a nut. But I'm ok with that! Cheers!
Anyway! For some reason, I've been losing weight this year. I don't have an exact number, but as of two months ago, I'd dropped thirty pounds off of my winter weight, without even really trying. Considering that I'd already come down another thirty pounds from where I'd been two years ago, I feel pretty good. I will be keeping track of it, just in case I've done something silly like picked up a resident tapeworm or something
bizarre like that, but all-in-all, I've mostly just been trying to cut out snacks and superfluous sugars in my day-to-day life. Now that the semesters started, I'm adding to that a two-hour dance class twice a week, and biking to classes, and I feel that I'm living a relatively healthy life.
What the mysterious "they" don't tell you about losing weight, however, is all the little inconveniences that come with having a body that is, in effect, less padded against outside objects. While I can hold my own in dance class, I am not the most graceful person in the world when it comes to moving through everyday life. I run into walls, ricochet off corners, back into doorknobs and furniture edges, and in general, lead a fairly high-contact life. Back when I was around the 200 lb mark, this was no big deal. I'd absorb the impact, bruise slightly, and get on with things. Now, however, the impact is much closer to bones and muscle, and for once in my life, I'm starting to remember how I got all the bruises on me at any given time, because they HURT!
Even simple little things like resting my elbows on my desk as I'm studying, sitting on concrete, and lying on the floor on my stomach to read the paper- all of these are a lot less comfortable when you don't have ample layers of cushioning already attached to you. One of my neighbors who has a tendency to play his music far too loudly for far too long needed a reminder to tone it down the other night, and I felt like I nearly broke my hand, pounding on the wall (I know it's not nice, but the guy never answers his door, and responds to thumps on the wall, soooo....)
I've never been one to desire being stick-thin. For starters, I was a scrawny kid (fat baby though, go figure), and I distinctly remember having the same problems with all of these bumps and bruises and the inability to sit comfortably on the floor. For seconders (yes, seconders), I love food. I am a cranky, cranky woman when I don't eat, and I flat-out just love the taste, smell, and texture of good food. There is no way I am giving that up for some kooky ideal of beauty.
Moreover, I absolutely disagree with the idea that scrawny is beautiful. I've always been a bit of a tomboy, and certainly a lot of a do-it-myself'er, so the thought of wafting around on a breath of wind and having to ask for help just to open a jar, much less to do something like gut and replace the insides of a toilet, or repair drywall, seriously does not appeal to me. Competence, capability, and being able to put someone through said wall on my own if I need to is more what I have in mind when it comes to being attractive. I just wish I could pick up some grace to counteract the lack of padding!
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