romancing the scale.....

well, not the scale. but i am talking about fitness here. it is something i struggle with, real bad.

i am in no way complaining about where i am at with my body, i gave that up a long time ago. i spent the entire teen years practicing walking a certain way to hide the junky trunk i inherited. i proudly carry my junky trunk now, fine with it. we've grown on each other. in my teenage years i was waking up some mornings before the sun, going on walks with my dad, trying to run from puberty. it took my 78 pound frame and slapped it silly with the weight stick. i mean, up and down and back again. i counted fat grams, went on the cabbage soup diet, tried buns of steel, and about every possible gimmick. i even bought chitosol, the amazing TV infomercial that collected all the fat from your intake and isolated it, making your body never process it. all that did was make my plumbing so clogged it took an african bird pepper pill to rid me from the clutches of chitosol. then we added some necessary medication into the mix that made me swell up like a balloon the month before junior prom. i kept growing out of dresses, it was not fun.

i always hated when i had the "time to go on a diet" mind set. i felt so deprived, so sad. didn't like looking at myself or heaven forbid swim suit season. every april i would get the "diet" feeling. what a horrid way to spend the teenage years.

then, i got married, went off medication, had a baby and lost all the weight. something happened when i got pregnant. i never worked out, never lifted a finger. i can't say i ate to my hearts content either, i just got busy with other things besides eating.

then, i discovered cooking. i loved following thru with a recipe and having it turn out so well. eating my preparations made me cut back what i was eating in quantity because i felt so satisfied with the whole process of it. i can watch a cooking show and feel full, it just does something for me without trying it. so weird, right?

lately, as this old haggard body is approaching the big 30, i have noticed sagging in places that have always been full and fat. i have never considered jeans that need extra saddle bag room, always rump room, but not 3 inches below the rump to carry the sag. i almost think the sag may be beyond repair. throw nursing into the mix and you want to post an ad on a milk carton - please find my body that up and left me, please. pregnancy took my body and threw it to the thunder storms and rain, returning it gloomy and dismal. the scale has not bothered me the past 8 years, it's the stretchy skin that i fear has gone forever. surgery holds no answers for me. i can't be fully honest with you unless i tell you there was a time in the early 20's i thought the only way i could be made whole was to have an enhancement or some skin removal. now, as i approach my 30's, the thought makes me giggle like a school girl. leaving the utah rat race of beauty for 2 years was the best thing i ever, ever could have done for myself.

adding diversity in my life with other nationalities, cultures and looks - it was easy for me to embrace me. all of me. sag, droop and body. i wasn't like everyone else, my sag was uniquely mine. i was able to start deciphering the different looks of the asian culture and could surely tell you a korean from a japanese, no problem. it opened my eyes the shallowness i looked with before my east coast stint. here, in the current residence of the rocky mountains, there are A LOT of 20 something young white mothers. we all mesh and try to look alike oddly. i guess that is what happens. i miss the culture but am grateful for the embracing it helped me do with my own saggy mess because deep in my bones, i know this is where we are supposed to be for this time. that doesn't mean i don't about jump out of my skin when i brush shoulders with another culture at the local market. our first day back in the rocky mountains, over 2 years ago, we were at the local store. we were grocery shopping s.mac and i. there were 2 black kids and he told me he was going to ask if he could hug them he was so glad to see beyond the white. i grabbed his arm and threatened him with my pregnancy eyes, one look at the bulge in my mid-section gave him reason to stay at bay.

so today, i reflect with gratitude for the experience of being uniquely me. embracing it without having to go under the knife to make me feel whole. discovering these feelings and making them alive again makes me see the importance of some good physical activity without the intent of making jeans fit a certain way or a shirt to sit just so. celebrate you today, just for me. there will be less honking on the freeway for sure if we all partook. thank you.