Monthly Archives: February 2014

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You can call me the tubster

Actually, on second thought, don’t.

The weight starting sneaking back when I hurt my back in 2012 after doing Amy’s Gran Fondo. It was pretty bad. My ability to exercise dropped way off because I simply couldn’t move like I once did. I did shed some weight in 2013 but it seemed like it was only temporary. I did manage to get back down to 70kg for the wedding but that’s only because I had listeria poisoning. Three weeks before the wedding I was 72.5kg. How do I remember this when the wedding was six months ago? Because I was genuinely shocked at dropping 2.5kg in a week.

(Still, that’s not as bad as when I did Amy’s Ride on a 45°C day and dropped from 69kg to 66kg. *coughs* I was a wee bit dehydrated. But it all came back on after a few days as it should’ve.)

Anyhoo… I weighed myself this morning. I am a very bleugh 74kg, up last week from 73.8kg. I have clothes that I know I would struggle to fit into at my current weight. Beautiful dresses that I can’t wear because I’ve become too much of a tubby. But I don’t know… That’s my impression of myself. I think I look I’m about the size of elephant but it’s patently not true.

After all, compare this:
Lauren in a sparkly dark blue dress

with this:
Fat Lauren

The top photo was taken four days ago. The bottom one is from 2005. There is a visible difference between the two photos. My face is no longer all puffy and apparently I’ve started buying much better bras. 😛

I can see that I’m slimmer in the first photo but I feel like I look like I did in the second photo. Which is stupid. I know that I should be concerned about my weight gain because it’s not too healthy. But I know I’m concerned about my weight gain because of how I think I look. I should be worrying about my health and not give two figs about what I look like. I had two sets of blood tests done in 2013 and both came back saying I was extremely healthy. Even with the extra weight, I’m in rude health and not at risk of any major illness – like diabetes for example.

And that’s what I should be concerned about.

I should be concerned about doing what I need to do to keep myself healthy. I’ve always had a bit of a problem with fat acceptance (which seems to say that it’s okay to be fat regardless of the consequences) but I’ve tended to agree with the message of the health at any size concept. I have just as much value at size 16 as I did when I was a size 12. I’m still the same person. However, I was horrendously unhealthy when I was size 16 (and accelerating towards 18 and higher). I couldn’t get up a small flight of stairs without being out of breath and feeling like my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. I didn’t feel any sense of wellness, even though I wasn’t sick. The initial weight loss was liberating, not because I looked better but because I could move freely. I felt well. I felt good.

I guess that at the moment I’m struggling to like my body as it currently is. I feel fat and bloated. I feel like I’m sluggish and slow (although this morning’s ‘power lap’ on Yarra Boulevard says otherwise!). Maybe I feel like my body has betrayed me because I have put on weight. We’re in a struggle when we shouldn’t be.

After all, my body really is amazing. It does some really cool things like regulate my temperature, keeps my heart beating, controls my muscles so I can type and scratch my temple (which I just did) without me even being conscious of it. Well, I’m aware that I’m typing but I’m not telling my fingers to type a conscious level. It’s not the enemy.

It’s my thinking that’s the problem. I need to change the perception I have of myself, if that makes sense. I know I’m never going to be model thin and, to be honest, I don’t want to be. But I can’t help but wish I was slimmer. The bizarre thing about thinking like this is that I’m not sure what being slimmer would really do for me. Well, one obvious answer is that it’d make riding up mountains a hell of a lot easier! But apart from that, I have no clue. Being slimmer isn’t going to make me more successful at work – my brain needs to do that. Being slimmer isn’t going to net me a husband – already got one. Being slimmer isn’t going to suddenly lead to fame and fortune – not that I want to be famous anyway (some extra fortune would be nice though *lol*).

So how do I change my thinking? Maybe I need to simplify it. I mean, all I really care about is being able to ride my bike and having a quiet simple life. So… can I ride my bike as I am right now? Yes, I can. Does my appearance when I’m on my bike and fully kitted up really matter? Well, no. It’s not like I can see my arse or my flabby guts when I’m riding anyway. Does my husband love and accept me as I am right now? The way he is with me suggests a most definite yes. Does he care about the way I look? Maybe a little bit but it’s because he wants me to be healthy. It’s not about me being fat. Am I going to be any better off if I suddenly lost 10kg? Possibly but the effort that would go into doing it would make me pretty unhappy. And maintaining it wouldn’t be a lot of fun either.

So, what now? 10 years ago I probably would’ve been in tears by now and stuffing my face with chocolate. Or ice cream. And making a bad situation even worse. I’m more than aware that I always give into temptation. I love chocolate. I love ice cream. I love cake. So maybe the solution is to love them a little less. And to be honest – get over it. All this angst about how I look is idiotic and a huge waste of time. I look the way I look.

So there you go, self! Build a bridge and get over it!!