Seriously – and to me some of them sound kind of twisty – but S. who actually knows some of the people involved says they make some sense.
A. When I start making a plan and goals, if I don’t meet them perfectly, I then use it as an excuse to not continue. And once I start planning, I start micro-managing – thus leaving me endless opportunities to fail to meet the plan. This affects way more things that exercise – but as one can imagine especially with something like exercise where I have sort of a love/hate relationship with it anyway. It can make an impact.
B. This one is more weight than exercise – My parents, society, stupid beauty norms – they all say i should lose weight. And I mostly say – fuck that. The fact of the matter is – my mom bugged me about my weight when i had a 28″ waist and weighed 110 pounds. (And seriously if I had weight problem at 5′ 3″ 110lbs and DD chest – I’ll eat a bucket of worms) I hated her hangup about my weight, and to me, I feel like I never learned how to normally limit my own weight, because I have been running fast away from someone else trying to control it. I now weight twice that much (that was in high school).
But seriously – I HATE getting approval from any place my brain has determined as “establishment” for something that makes me more “normal”. The most dangerous time for me when losing weight is when my family starts noticing, and giving me praise. I feel like a sell-out. And then the only thing they’ll want to talk about is what I am doing to lose weight. I realize that logic doesn’t enter much in here, but I can’t escape the feeling that I am suffocating just remembering a family gathering the last time I lost any serious amount of weight.
C. Not surprisingly, my parents love to be active, exercise, love to be in shape, watch what they eat, follow nutrition fads – they do the whole thing. My dad was a marathon runner, then he did 100 mile bike races, now he lifts weights and does rowing machines (I think i am right about the machines). My mom used to do 1/2 marathons, goes aerobic walking, does yoga and tai-bo and step aerobics etc. They both have my whole life. I don’t ever remember enjoying it. Which isn’t to say I didn’t do my share of activities when I was younger, I swam competitively (although I rarely cared if I won), and loved to dance. But my parents would go cross country skiing, and so can’t contemplate that one might not enjoy it, that they don’t remember me not enjoying it. (You’d have thought the crying was an indicator – but if I tell them that now, they’ll tell me I am just being dramatic.) To me quite a bit of “exercise” like activities are associated with aches and pains, and being left behind, and boring pointless repetition.
D. I think I’ve spent the last year in a circle mantra – “I am going to have to start exercising, because I am not going to do a ton about the way I eat.” “I am going to have to change the way I eat, because I don’t see myself exercising.” – Its frustrating knowing that the way one is treating their body isn’t good for it, but not being able to figure out a way to change it that will work. I tend to think in ways that are BIG CHANGE BIG CHANGE, and tend to miss the ways one can do series of small changes.
that is sort of the short list – followed by -
“Damn, have you seen what they charge fat women for work out clothes?”
“Really, fat people can be athletically fit?”
“No, I’m sorry I can’t make that pose, my tits are in the way!”
“What do you mean, you would like a sports bra that will keep you from putting an eye out?!”
so getting over, around, above etc all of that and walking in the door of the club – well WHEEEE! and NO this isn’t a “You should feel bad for me” type post. But if I am going to keep posting about working out – I want folks to know where I am coming from, and why I make some of the weird seeming choices I make about how I approach it.