Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Romping around ( Mired, really ) in the Muck! a mojo/self image post


Oh, If i did have occasion to muck about in some real mud and slush and stuff, I would get those boots! Are they not cute?!

Ok , the real post is about this. I get dragged down from this good place I'm in by the strangest things and all those old disordered eating / body image voices / behaviors / ideas are suddenly in charge of driving this bus. The bus of me.

Having a moody husband who has been laid off for some time and is putting the resumes out there and has exhausted the networking, lays a foundation for a not so fun pj house which I'm ready to escape --straight to the gym. Endorphins!

Saturday I'm at Zumba and I'm groovin and it's all good. I'm probably in the top percentage of oldest and fattest in the class and I don't care!. Shakin' it baby. Afterward, I'm doing my weight training and stretching with some yoga poses. I'm in the little padded (usually darker) area near the hall towards the bathrooms which is here for just this purpose. I close my eyes and get my final stretch in and sit up and there are these dudes going by looking at me and saying "check that.....". When I sat up they stopped. My first reaction is they are thinking "look at the fat girl, old lady, big boobs, fat, fat / old and big boob/booty"...whatever! negative.
Then I consider as my husband tells me "maybe they liked the way I looked?" No definitely , not that! I left the gym and was a little self concious all day. My good mojo was a little deflated.

Sunday I'm at Yoga and I'm late , so I have to position myself at the front of the class in front of the mirror. Oh, crap! I never do that because I prefer not to look at myself. I zen out in the middle or on the back row. I look at myself and I seem huge. My face is big and round. See how my arms hang when I do warrior (flab from losing 100 lbs). Suddenly I'm so aware of how often I have to modify for my size and how much the skinnier folk cando better at this or that. Suddenly I'm having to recite mantras " I'm strong. I am resiliant."


I'm typically fully aware of what this body looks like after being over 300 lbs for a few years at my highest but basically stuck in the 200's since I was 18 years old (32 years worth) and even now after losing so much weight. But suddenly I feel huge. Is the scale lying? Am I gaining? What the heck? I need to measure. OMG ! is that right? But it's muscle. Damn it, don't give me that muscle crap!.

I forget that "heck !, I just did Zumba, weight training, yoga this weekend!" It's all for nothing. I eat crap that night. I'm ashamed.

Monday is horrible. suck suck. depression .

Tuesday sees me just mired in the lowest stew of muck and depression . the low of the lowest.

I tentatively reach up and start doing things to take care of myself. I reorder a prescription. I make an appointment for my dog. I bake a bunch of potatoes for meals. I make a fruity/ fiber / oat cake thingey and slice it up and freeze a few pieces for later. I go to the gym and do a water aerobics class.

I'm back on track. I still want those Wellies.

image courtesy of google search probably the wellington site.

5 comments:

  1. Good for you! I like the mantra I'm resilient

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  2. It's amazing how we let other people drag us down with their immaturity. I know it's a little cliche to say "Don't let it get you down, it doesn't matter what they think" but really? Is there a better way to deal with that nonsense?

    I can also relate to the "catastrophizing" of your body. There are times where the only think I can concentrate on are the all the flaws and imperfections and completely ignore the progress that I've made. It's no way to live.

    It sounds like you're back on the right track. Stay there, and the heck with anyone who tries to drag you down.

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  3. I topped out at 28 pounds shy of that larger number (someone made a movie with the title) and while I have stayed 40 pounds below, it's been a year now. Sometimes the mirror lies... sometimes it tells the awful truth... sometimes it helps in my own self-deception.
    I'm sorry you are struggling with these things all over again, PJ. You've certainly given words to my love-hate relationship with the gym. I hope to start back in there in another week or two, now that I've been released from Frankenboot.

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