Ok, wow, so I am really excited about this whole blogging thing! Of all the wierd resolutions I have made over the years, I think this is one I could actually stick to! Which bring me to my topic of the day: resolutions. Otherwise known as, my entire lack of resolution. The main issue here, as I’m sure it is the way with many women, is food! God I love food! And although I have really never been more than about ten pounds of plump more than I should be, I have felt fat and hideous since I was old enough to look at magazines and then look at my myself, and back to the magazines, and realize that I simply did not – and never will! – look like those fragile, beautiful gazelles with their impossibly long legs, sculpted torsos, ridiculously round breasts! Oh no, I have pretty much resigned myself to being slightly chunky, a bit mannish, and entirely flat-chested. Now, that being said, I am not one to stop trying and wishing. And I have tried – and I emphasize the word “tried” here because my various goals and health routines are notoriously transient – to lose weight well, pretty much constantly since I was 14 years old. It all started innocently enough. At 14, I was a prodigy rower (like rowing, you know, with an oar, for you landlubbers!) and was even being scouted by universities from the states for scholarships and everything (arrogance will be the death of me! But it’s true). The thing was, I was, as I am now, about 140 lbs, and if I could only be 135 lbs, a mere five pounds lighter! I could race at the prestigious Henley regatta as a lightweight, and probably win. And so, the summer between grade eight and nine, I watched what I ate. I trained even more, doing long workouts to burn fat, avoiding white bread and rice and everything. In the end, I did lose the five pounds, raced lightweight, and came second in the country. It was fantastic! Exhilarating! But, that being said, I blame that experience for kicking off the next 12 years of food obsession. There is literally not a morsel of food that crosses my lips, where I do not mentally calculate the number of calories, think about how much I will have to NOT eat to make up for it, think about how much I should be working out, whatever, and it just starts this ridiculous spiralling snowball effect of self-doubt and hatred. If somebody knows the way out of this labyrinth, let me know! Because I am, quite honestly, completely sick of it. I have tried dieting, cleansing, working out, weight training, everything, with hopes of achieving the impossible, and it just seems like the harder I try to deprive myself, the more violently I rebound, and, you know, plough a whole box of Peek Freans Fruit Cremes. I think the tendency for women is to think about self-acceptance (in this case on the purely superficial level, like where you look in the mirror and go, “Damn, bitch! You’s hot!”) in terms of cause and effect, and I have come to the conclusion that it is the other way around. What do I mean? Well, I am always saying to myself, “Self, if only I had a perfect body, then I could be truly happy with myself.” But you know what, and I am slowly epiphanizing on this, a little more each day, (yes I know that’s not a word, but it should be) that it’s the other way around. If Ireally loved and accepted myself, JUST
the way I am, if I could find something beautiful about myself, every day, instead of seeing zits and unruly, cowlicky hair, and fat thighs and ugly scars, if I could see that instead, I have a nice smile, perfect teeth, nice green eyes, elegant-looking ankles…. if I could pick out one
of those things to focus on each day, I bet my body would physically start to look better. What a bunch of cheezy schlock, you are saying! Heard that one before, you are saying! But you know what, I am going to try it. And I’m going to try it with a lot more OOMPH than I tried, you know, eliminating all wheat from my life, or swimming every morning, or never eating sugar, or any of those other, truly insane things. I would love if you would join me here! Anyways, I am technically working right now… but if you happen to be reading this, I challenge you to come up with one thing, just one, that you really love about your body. And tell me! I mean who cares right, it’s not like you know me.