- One, it means I'm now willing to say that for the first time in ages I weigh less than 180 lbs. It means I've lost about 55 lbs. since I started dieting and exercising back in December. Therefore I shall pat myself on the back. Yay me!
- And two, it means that the sushi-and-sake blowout that Sturdy Helpmeet™ and I enjoyed with dangerous_fred and his wife on Saturday didn't set me back a couple of weeks like I'd feared. Yay, tastyfish!
(And Yay, good company! Damn, that was fun.)
Of course, the BMI chart says I'm still overweight, and the mirror says my belly-to-buffness quotient is still higher than I'd like. When I started this weight-loss project I told myself I was doing it because it was necessary and because my doctor told me to. Now I think I'm doing it because I want to be and feel and look a certain way, just because that's what I want, dammit.
The problem is that I'm still trying to figure out exactly what that way is, and how to describe it.
For instance, a statement like "I'd like to have a flat stomach" is tremendously loaded. I'm supposed to care about art and science and literature, the intellect and the spirit. Wanting to have a nice body, and spending time and sweat and money to get it, feels like a shameful betrayal of high ideals and a descent into vanity and stupidity. It's proof that I've been brainwashed by TV and the magazines that sit next to the check-out counter.
I'd also like to get back into martial arts, and sometimes I dabble in rehearsing the basics and kata of karate. The problem there is that when I first started practicing karate as a teenager, I didn't relate to it like a sensible person doing a sport or a hobby. It practically became my substitute religion, and I bought into the mythology big-time. I don't think my sensei tried to push that mythology, particularly—it's just that I watched movies and read glossy magazines and romantic novels instead of asking intelligent questions and setting realistic goals. I over-trained; I injured myself; and I didn't even fight all that well. So now I look around at the options, and I see lots of attractive and interesting things I could practice, but it's like I've been vaccinated against my own aspirations. I can't imagine succeeding at something without being a sucker, and suckers don't succeed.
So I'm in a weird place where I don't quite trust myself, and I can't quite bring myself to trust anyone else, either. I enjoy the CrossFit classes I take twice a week, but I bristle defensively when urged to modify my diet or sign up for any of the competitive events that are constantly cropping up. I'd probably benefit if I took advice and used these events to motivate myself, but I'd also hate myself a bit for giving in so easily and surrendering my judgment enough to take someone else's goals as my own.
And, well, that's really me all over: letting my brain get in the way of my common sense. I'm embarrassed by it. On the other hand, it's worked so far. Yay me.