I went to the gym today. It’s a necessary evil for the foreseeable future. I won’t drop the last of the weight I want to lose without exercise, and if you’ve ever tried to exercise in a house with two small children, you know it’s pretty much impossible to do. I hate running with a passion; besides, I only have a single occupant jogging stroller and I don’t think Elizabeth can run as long as I can. Well, scratch that, at this point she probably can. My stride sucks and my jog speed is everyone else’s fast walk speed. I could do the fast walking thing but it’s nearly impossible to go fast enough for long enough when you’re pushing two children in front of you. I honestly don’t know how women manage to DO that. You are amazing if you can. It’s just not in my skill set.
So, I go to the gym. I learned that I suck at pushing myself, so I take classes, preferring the ones with weights and muscle work, and drop the kids in the child care. The thing about the gym though, is that there are mirrors fucking EVERYWHERE. I know, I know, I hear you say, Melissa, you just LOST 65 POUNDS. You look amazing!
Well, I look ok. Every once in a while I see how much smaller my thighs, stomach, or butt is and I’m reminded of how much smaller everything is. It really is amazing. But I’m still not the slimmest one at the gym and what I do have left is awfully…jiggly. Seriously. Maybe it’s lose skin from the rapid weight loss, that’s possible, but I stood in front of my bathroom mirror naked recently and, just to see, did a shimmy. It was like shaking a bowl of jello. It was insane. I wasn’t that jiggly when I was larger, so what the hell? Add to that the fact that I carry what weight I have left (I still want to lose 20 pounds at least, so I’m ALMOST THERE) in my butt and thighs, and my boobs have also suffered the ravages of two years of breastfeeding, I’m hardly rocking a taut body.
So, there I stand in my Body Blast classes at a gym that is women only watching my body jiggle and my butt flatten and sag as I sit or stand. I know I should only see the positives, and I DO see them, but all those years of being fat and uncomfortable with how I looked haven’t just gone away. Those thoughts are just there, lurking under the surface, ready to ambush me at any moment.
I can only think the weights and cardio (I do the treadmill on days I can’t make a class) will help tighten things up and get rid of the jiggles. I guess there’s not much I can do about my boobs except buy some push up bras or something. The point, I guess, is that no matter how someone looks, don’t assume they feel great about it. Don’t hate the skinny woman at the gym. She’s there, isn’t she? Celebrate that you’re both there working it off and sweating instead of being jealous of her (not that anyone in their right mind is jealous of ME). I think we all have the body issues. They never really go away.