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May 11, 2005
better and cranky 
I'm feeling better this morning—like I actually have a little energy—but also a bit down. I've been going into work early-early and working through my lunches to work on a project that's due on Friday, and this afternoon, I'll spend the whole time in meetings. What a waste. That three-and-a-half hours could make a huge difference. Like between whether I have to take work home tonight and tomorrow night. Oh well.
I found out last night that I won't be doing the Willamette Valley Relay. It wasn't my decision, natch—there's just not enough folks to form a non-competitive team. I wouldn't have thought that this would bum me out so much, but I am really actively grieving this. I am so very sad.
Mind you, I am still doing the Portland to Coast with the Librarians on the Loose (great name, n'est-ce que pas?), but that's not as immediate. And I only know one person on the team.
...
Last night wasn't too much better. I was feeling not terribly energetic so I didn't go to mat pilates—I was afraid it would wipe me out and set me back. Thursday, g-ds willing, if I don't have to take work home.
We ran some errands, including going to the mall. I don't go very often, and I remembered why after going. Basically, I have one pair of pants that fit that I can wear to work. I have jeans that fit, but they don't meet our dress code. Since I've gotten lucky recently at le T@rget, I went back. Sigh. In plus sizes, they have ugly pants—that are all cropped. Grrr. That's useful.
And I had that unfortunate experience. You're sitting on the bench in the dressing room, across from the mirror. You're leaning over, putting on your shoes. And you're just a series of large rolls. Okay, so only two large rolls, the breasts (which we'll refer to as one unit), and the belly. I manage to avoid self-loathing most of the time, but with that sight, it's hard.
At that point, I hate everything. The clothes I'm wearing now (which are my old-standard work pants, that now fit like clown pants, with a blouse [note to self: put them both in the Goodwill bag]), my haircut, my haircolor, my face, my belly, and of course, the accursed breasts.
In that moment, I lose grasp of all of the progress I've made in the last year. I know I've made progress. And the fact that I went home and drank fizzy water while reading rather than eating chips and guacamole and drinking beer—that's progress too. Sigh. I just want instant gratification. Or gratification that's faster than what I'm getting.
I know I'm on the right road. I'm not having to diet to maintain the new weight, though I'm going to have to find the wagon and get on to get to the next new weight.
Posted at May 11, 2005
Comments
I remember walking through the mall years ago and glancing about at all the beautiful people. Seemed like all the people that look like they should be in a magazine were shopping that day. Then I caught my reflection in a store window. Gack! Who the heck is THAT?!
We have such a harsh inner critic and its tough to measure up to what we think we should look like. I have to believe that everyone thinks like that sometime, no matter what they look like.
As for keeping the progress close at hand, just think of it all like one of your races. This is the hard part in the middle where things get slow and seem to drag. The finish line is in the distance, just need to dig in and push.
Posted by: Jon in Michigan at May 11, 2005 11:10 AM
dang that jon, not only did he get here first but he was way more inspiring than i'm going to be.
Basically I was going to whine with you. dieting sucks. I went on a successful diet about four years ago lost 60 pounds and started running, seriously. Did my first half. Got pregnant, gained 80 pounds, lost about 50ish still can't fit into any of myclothes and am thinking of having another.
Sometimes it feels like what is the point. And I just have to keep reminding myself that i"m getting healthy for myself and for my kids.
Posted by: brit at May 11, 2005 8:55 PM
Jon is quick on the draw, I can relate to that. I know I fight daily with my inner critic - never satisfied, the bugger.
I see masses of "beautiful people" everyday on the train - I wonder if they are all sport freaks or how-the-heck-do-they stay-in-shape??
But instead of hanging my head and weeping on my ever-present spare tire, I try to focus on where I was and how far I've come, and just keep putting a step forward on my long-way-to-go.
Posted by: Jack at May 12, 2005 1:22 AM