Yay me. I'm not dead.

Each time I go to the gym I do a half hour of weight training and a half hour of cardio.  The weight training varies.  I just pick up where I left off on the circuit last time and go for a half hour.  But the cardio is always the same...my old friend the elliptical.

I LOVE the elliptical.  I can get my heartrate up quickly, sweat a ton and read all at the same time.  I can do it right next to a skinny young thing and for a half hour not feel inadequate because I can keep up with her.  What's not to love? 

First it gives me my choice of program.  I choose the "Weight Loss" program, which consists of alternating intensities in four minite increments.  It asks me for my weight.  I press the "Up" key until it gets to the right number.  This takes far longer than I would like.  Then it asks me for my age.   It's the same process with my age, but that doesn't take as long.  I press "OK" and the digital readout says "Age/Weight Accepted"

Ah...if only I could be as kind to myself as this machine is to me.

I am quite accepting of my age.  I've witnessed my friends go through major crises over turning 30, 35, 40, 45.  None of these numbers phased me.  I mean it's not like I didn't see them coming.  And consider the alternatives:

1. I could pretend I'm not aging, but really who would that fool?  Nobody who matters. 
2. I could stop aging (die).  There are still books to read, steaks to eat and music to be heard so let's put that off, mmkay?
3. I can own my age proudly as evidence that I've managed to make it out of childhood and through a couple of decades of adulthood without accidentally offing myself.

My vote is for #3.  Yay me.  I'm not dead.

My weight is an entirely different issue.  I SO wish I could be one of those big, confident women who can look a man in the eye and say "MmmHmm honey, you can't handle the lovin' of a big, beautiful woman like me".  Or something like that.  I look at Queen Latifah, Cameron Manheim, Amber Riley, Oprah Winfrey, Jennifer Hudson before Weight Watchers, Kathy Bates, I don't see "fat chick"...I see confident, beautiful women.

When look at me I see Homer Simpson with hair.

I wonder if it has as much to do with attitude as it does Spanx and professional stylists (or lack thereof).

I'm the first to jump on my kids if they say something derogatory about fat people. The Boy is 16.  His taste in girls goes toward tiny and thin.  That's his perogative.  It is NOT his perogative to be rude to ANY girl who likes him, even if she's overweight.  And it is not acceptable to laugh at her behind her back. 

The Girl is 12, and a huge Glee fan.  She can't understand what Puck sees in Lauren.  I just tell her that fat people have feelings too and wonder if she understands that when she asks me that kind of question I can't help but think she might wonder what her dad sees in me.

As quick as I am to defend my fellow overweight person, why am I equally quick to discount my own worth because of my weight?  I am more offended by a person, or society in general, labeling a stranger unlovable or unwantable than I am by myself, or really anyone else, putting that same label on myself.  I convince myself that I WILL SOMEDAY be worthy of love and kindness, that I will someday allow myself to buy nice clothes, that I will SOMEDAY be able to dance in public or speak my mind or any number of other attention-causing things, that I will some day stop hiding...all I have to do is lose 40 pounds.

What the hell?

So today when I go to the gym, when the elliptical tells me that my weight is accepted, I'm going to try to say to myself "Yep, now let's get healthy" rather than "Oh hell no it's not, now get to work".

Why can't we all get along....with ourselves?

Today's lunch - Salad.  Boring but YUMMY.