The F-word

“I feel like such a heifer. I had two bowls of Special K, three pieces of turkey bacon, a handful of popcorn, five peanut butter M&Ms and, like, three pieces of licorice.”
                                                                         —Cher Horowitz

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I’d better get my eyes checked.

The other day, I was out shopping with my friends. As we’re all workout junkies, we’d made a pact to head to Lululemon and check out some of the new summer clothes. I wanted a second pair of Studio crops in grey (I have the pants and the crops in black – I have a feeling I’ll be LIVING in them this summer), and I also wanted to try on their new collection of bathing suits. (And NO, I do not like bathing suit shopping, but we are going on a two-week vacation this summer and I will be spending lots of time by a pool, in waterparks and by an ocean. Apparently you CANNOT wear a parka when you do this.)

Is this appropriate beach attire?

So… what’s the deal with mirrors anyway? Words cannot express how awful this experience was. The glare off my white, cellulite-laden thighs was enough to blind me. The “mummy tummy.” Gurbles and burbles of fat rippled off of me. Sigh.

Here’s the killer part. I looked like I have never worked out in my life. Which, as anyone who knows me knows, that’s simply untrue. And it’s not even that I work out… I WORK OUT. I’m actually really fit. I’ve run two marathons, a bunch of half marathons and done a Tough Mudder. I do weights. I box. I do tons of body-weighted muscle. I teach a fitness class once a week, for heaven’s sake! I’m fit! My heart rate is 58 beats per minute. This morning, I did 120 curb run-ups in one minute, 30 seconds, then proceeded to do 110 squat leaps in 1:30. (I just realized this sounds like bragging… and I’m sorry, that’s not what I’m getting at here—bear with me, I’ve got a point.)

The family that trains together, stays together.

What the heck happened in that dressing room, then? I had a chance to stumble across this article this morning, and it got me to thinking about this whole concept of what it’s like to be “not fat” and yet “not skinny” at the same time. (Please don’t be offended by my use of the f-word. I am directing this solely at myself and I promise you, I don’t want to judge ANYONE else based on his or her weight!)

See, I’ve been fat with a capital F. I gained a monstrous amount of weight when I was pregnant (uh, both times) and it was tough to lose it. I’ve done that. I do know, deep down, that I am not “fat.” But I’m not skinny either, and it’s living in this in-between area that can be challenging.

When I was fat, I could just BE fat. I was fat and I knew it. I shopped in a plus-size store and I ate whatever I wanted. I knew people would judge me, but it was okay because I was fat. Whatever they were thinking about me, it couldn’t be any worse than what I thought about myself. And in a weird way, you kind of learn to be at peace with that. You don’t expect to “look good” in a bathing suit or anything else for that matter, because you self-identify as a “fat” person. Was I happy with it? No, not really, but it was what it was.

After I had my youngest son, I got a little fed up with being that person. I craved a change. I joined a gym and began my fitness and weight loss journey. Eight years later, I am a different person—I am that fit person I just talked about above. I somehow got hooked on exercise and can’t even imagine my life without it. I’ll never stop; it’s become a huge part of who I am and how I want to live my life. I exercise for exercise’s sake… because it makes me healthy, happy and whole.

But the truth of the matter is that I’m not skinny or thin either. I’m just kind of… medium? Average? Whatever you want to call it, it’s something that brings with it its own challenges.

Take going out to eat, for example. In the original blog post I read (written by a 20-something, so not EVERYTHING applies to my almost-40 self), one of the things she mentions is eating in front of people you don’t really know well. Every word rang true:

“So you’re at a restaurant with a person or a couple people you’re not close with. They could be co-workers, a date, acquaintances (AKA not your BFFs), people you just started to become friends with, etc. You scan the menu and see a lot of things that make you want to have sex, i.e. macaroni and cheese, pizza, a burger with fries. However, your inner skinny person is telling you that should probably get a salad. Your inner fat person, though, is begging you to get the fries… but umm what is everyone else getting? What if no one else gets a big meal? What if they all get salads? You can’t be the fat one who gets carbs. Then they’ll think you’re fat… even though you’re not… but you’re not skinny… so… whatever. You’re getting cheese fries salad. You’ll probably have a snack when you get home. It’s fine.”

I’ll admit it… I like to eat. (And honestly, working out as much as I do makes my HUNGRY.) I know damn well that the reason I’m not thin is because I like cheese. And wine. And French fries. And chips. (Shall I go on?) But I’m just at that weight where people might look at me eating fries and say, “does she REALLY need that?”

Ditto the bathing suit shopping, or any other clothes shopping, for that matter. When we hit up Lululemon, there was an endless amount of size two tank tops on the sale rack. There was ONE size eight. That means lots of people are likely a size eight, right? Well, let me tell you, when I grabbed the size eight bathing suit… you know the rest of the story. But then you say to yourself, “Come on! I thought I wasn’t fat! Why do I look like this in a bathing suit?!” It’s because you’re also not thin.

I’m not seriously complaining, here, of course.  I thank my lucky stars every day that I am fit and healthy. It’s just that every so often, I don’t want to be “medium.” I want to be thin. I don’t want to worry about what other people might think of me when I’m eating fries or wearing a bathing suit.

Then I open a bottle of wine…

 

Does this make everything better… or worse?!

Okay, that’s the end of today’s rant. I don’t have an answer for any of this, but I do know that part of the work I have to do is clean up my own brain and stop obsessing over issues such as these. (Part of the reason for this blog!)

This week’s focus is going to continue the “cleaner” theme. The great fridge/freezer clean-out is ongoing. I did hit the grocery store yesterday, but just bought the staples (fruits, veggies and other stuff for the kids’ lunches). This afternoon I will start cleaning out the basement (books, toys, etc.) and hopefully we will start painting down there this weekend.

On to the next challenge…