When in Rome

Not a lot to say, but wanted to get it down. Vacationing with your husband is different than any variation of single incarnations of vacation I may have taken in the past. There’s no pressure to stay out late and meet new people. We met an interesting couple from Canada at dinner tonight, but in general the pressure is off. Mostly, it’s about traveling with your partner, enjoying their company, and learning new things about them. I like that.

Advertisements

How To Start?

Time to sit down and start doing this thing. Why did I start a blog? Many reasons. I am a 5’2′ girl who weighs 130 pounds, give or take a few. At my most, 143 and at my least a brief 119. Most times I stay around the 127 range, but things changed for a few pounds heavier set point when I got together with my now husband. So what do all these numbers mean? In the scheme of things, nothing. But in my head, a never ending battle between happy and shameful. 

As a woman in America, I’m constantly given ways to lose weight, images suggesting I need to, and an unattainable ideal. I’m technically a healthy weight, and I’m for the most part a happy girl, but I’m also obsessed with losing those 3 freaking pounds. My husband and I are foodies. We love the nightly ritual of cooking dinner together or going out for a good meal. Combine that with my athletic nature and we should be good, right? But my appetite seems to be more than my metabolism will allow for that magic number I wish for on the scale. I stay healthy, and I stay happy/unhappy. I’m uncomfortable in my body, uncomfortable in my clothes, and I spend most days trying to find more ways to burn calories. 

So how do I resolve the two? I was walking around a fantastic museum on my honeymoon in Dublin today, looking at Egyptian artifacts and hating the elastic on my dress and underwear. I had to sit down and have a dialog with myself-take myself out of the situation and be objective. Because I was losing the moment I was on my trip for by feeling like I’m having a fat day. I don’t want myself to spend this trip walking 9 miles a day and still feeling like I “shouldn’t” have a proper dinner in a city I love. All I know is I need to find a way to marry the body I’m in with the person I am. I don’t like how much time I spend obsessing about the numbers that make up my weight-how much have I ate today, how many calories did I burn, and what’s that do to the number on the scale. I’m so much more than a number on a scale. I’m a smart girl. I’m funny as hell. I am passionate about being well and fully aware that in the scheme of things, this healthy & capable body I have would suit most people just fine. For Christ’s sake, I did a half iron man a month ago! 

I  know I’m not alone in this struggle. I know many strong and beautiful women who go through this same ebb and flow. Happiness and contentment are within my reach-if I’m willing to let myself be. I also need to remember that being happy doesn’t mean I’m “done”. I can love this body and BECAUSE of that, take good care of it. I can teach classes at the Y, take them, and run because I love this body, not just because I want it to be different. It’s a matter of perspective. I hope to gain some on the rest of this honeymoon. Because Jeff loves me-shouldn’t I?