smackshack: Ninjas with guitars. Like dueling banjos, but awesome. (Ninjas with guitars. Like dueling banjos)
[personal profile] smackshack
This morning I weighed in at 179.5 lbs. Friday I weighed in at 179.5 lbs. This is important for two reasons.
  • 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 [personal profile] 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.)
And let's send an extra Yay! to Sturdy Helpmeet™ who has been so supportive and helpful in spite of my altered diet and my new habit of disappearing for hours at a time only to show up sweaty and stinky and trembling and generally useless afterwards.

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.

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smackshack: a crude digital self-portrait (Default)

June 2012


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