Last week someone made a comment that really hurt my feelings. I am sure they didn't think anything of it, and I am usually not so easily bruised, but I just can't get it off my mind. I knew that it effected me more than I realized, when I was thinking about it on my run this morning. Man I love running, it really helps me clarify my mind, process my thoughts and feelings... besides I love listening to Eminem too!
So, I might not be a fast runner, or as skinny as I used to be, and I certainly can't seem to do a sit up, but could it be because I didn't workout enough when I pregnant? I am not really sure. I know I did what I felt I could. I swam and walked, and maybe my marathon training stopped after I had the first miscarriage, and with this last pregnancy, I put my PR's on the back burner and focused on having a baby. I know all people are not created equal when it comes to fitness, athleticism and body composition, usually it rides a pretty big wave amongst a crowd. I really thought I was doing fairly well considering my baby girl is just 12 weeks old, apparently in some peoples eyes, I am not.
What most people don't know is how someone like myself has struggled with body image and disordered eating from my early teens. There was a time when my daily intake was a diet coke and a pack of Marlboro Reds. I didn't exercise, just starved myself because I wasn't skinny enough - for who or what I couldn't really pinpoint. All 115 pounds of myself was a sad little mess, convinced that one day I would join the ranks of my obese family tree, or the guys wouldn't like me, or the girls thought I was fat, like I said, I couldn't pinpoint it. At one point I had what looked like little bruises, my grandmother thought I have leukemia, but it was just a vitamin deficiency - apparently there isn't any vitamins in diet coke...imagine that. I couldn't tell you what got me out of my funk, but it took me a long time to not look at food an as enemy. There are still times when I am not feeling so great about myself, I stand in front of the mirror and grab my fat, in tears, cursing food and fat and anything else. Of course instead of starving myself, I have gone the other way, I start eating... I guess the good news is, I can't bring myself to purge, so I leave bulimia to someone else.
If you think it is easy for me to be larger than I normally am, you would be sadly mistaken. Last night I was organizing my closet, those 4's & 6's from the past few years are now nestled away in bins just awaiting for the time, I can once again fit into them and I will fit in them again.
I just wonder how a health professional would approach a client who was coming back from a life altering event, perhaps a little out of shape, a little larger and a little less capable. Maybe making an offhand comment on what they should have been doing would be okay? It's not the approach I will take, that is for sure.
Perhaps I am a little too sensitive these days; maybe I am still hormonal? At the end of the day, I just need to let it go... It's what is best for me.
I will achieve my weight goals through healthy balanced eating and exercise. After all, I am not 16 anymore - I am a mother, and now I have a daughter. It's up to me to set a good example for her, so she knows self worth is not found in a number in your britches and validation is not found in the words of bitches.
Well time to head out for a swim... doing all I can, in a reasonable way, at a suitable pace.