Not about the numbers
So far, so good: I have already surpassed my planned schedule and maybe... though I don't want to jinx it... but just maybe the crisis is over. I love to run, I want to run, I miss it!
Here's the thing: I think I may have been screwing up royally, not with my training, but with my eating. My last couple of years at university have seen my weight gradually increase, and increase... never quickly, but always relentlessly. It's gotten to the point where I now weigh in at 137 pounds, and at my modest height of 5'3'', I decided enough was enough, and I was going to lose a few pounds or bust.
So, apparently, I busted. I ate less, I ate carefully, but the weight kept coming, and I was getting worse and worse at running. People kept offering me "comforting" advice: "You're probably gaining in muscle, not fat. Muscle weighs more you know, it's really dense." Well, ha ha and goody for me - I don't want to be a heavyweight and that's that! True, I run foremost because I love it and I want to improve myself - but fuck, part of that improvement should be shedding a couple of pounds!!! And I got myself so mired in guilt and disgust that I was pretty much... pounding... my head against the wall.
Reconsidering, I think my friendly advice-givers were probably right after all. I'm not a big person, but I have a lot of muscle, and exercising (especially some of the weight-bearing activity that I recently added to my routine) is bound to up its density. And that, for all that the models on billboards say otherwise, is a good thing. After all, I would rather have a strong athletic body than a weak and tiny one. I'd rather be strong and tiny, I guess, but how often does THAT happen?!
So I'm eating more again, and I have to say, it feels really good to do so - I forgot how much I LOVE to snack, love to fill my stomach six times a day instead of shoving in three stupid meals at set hours. And even though I know I won't stop obsessively weighing myself, I'm going to at least try to embrace whatever benefits are coming from my exercise - even if that means the numbers go up. As long as I look good and feel good, fuck the rest. I'm gonna go eat some chocolate and run, baby, run.
Here's the thing: I think I may have been screwing up royally, not with my training, but with my eating. My last couple of years at university have seen my weight gradually increase, and increase... never quickly, but always relentlessly. It's gotten to the point where I now weigh in at 137 pounds, and at my modest height of 5'3'', I decided enough was enough, and I was going to lose a few pounds or bust.
So, apparently, I busted. I ate less, I ate carefully, but the weight kept coming, and I was getting worse and worse at running. People kept offering me "comforting" advice: "You're probably gaining in muscle, not fat. Muscle weighs more you know, it's really dense." Well, ha ha and goody for me - I don't want to be a heavyweight and that's that! True, I run foremost because I love it and I want to improve myself - but fuck, part of that improvement should be shedding a couple of pounds!!! And I got myself so mired in guilt and disgust that I was pretty much... pounding... my head against the wall.
Reconsidering, I think my friendly advice-givers were probably right after all. I'm not a big person, but I have a lot of muscle, and exercising (especially some of the weight-bearing activity that I recently added to my routine) is bound to up its density. And that, for all that the models on billboards say otherwise, is a good thing. After all, I would rather have a strong athletic body than a weak and tiny one. I'd rather be strong and tiny, I guess, but how often does THAT happen?!
So I'm eating more again, and I have to say, it feels really good to do so - I forgot how much I LOVE to snack, love to fill my stomach six times a day instead of shoving in three stupid meals at set hours. And even though I know I won't stop obsessively weighing myself, I'm going to at least try to embrace whatever benefits are coming from my exercise - even if that means the numbers go up. As long as I look good and feel good, fuck the rest. I'm gonna go eat some chocolate and run, baby, run.
posted by Liv @ 1:32 a.m.
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