Tuesday, October 02, 2012
So I recently stopped using Birth Control because I gained weight while taking it (that, and I had to get my prescription renewed in a new city with limited transportation.) And I don't know if it's hormones, but man, I feel really down and out today.
I have no motivation to exercise, do homework, engage in mentally stimulating activities or give a damn about calories or what I'm putting in my body. I was supposed to go to campus early today to take care of some work, but I dealt with some serious financial aid bullsh*t and decided to stay in and take care of it tomorrow.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
First, let me get one thing straight: I am absolutely *thrilled* that my boyfriend is so successful on his diet. He started out weighing about 4-5lbs less than I and he's down over 13lbs now.
The kicker is, I've been eating super healthy, and he drinks beer. Not a lot, but maybe a few (2-3) once or twice a week. He also hasn't worked out in over a week (like myself). I am not jealous. Nope. Not one bit.
Ok, maybe a little.
I just got to tell myself to ignore this little voice and be reasonable. 1. His metabolism is probably faster 2. I haven't been to the gym in a week + because I can't afford it 3. My weight will come off eventually. It is better to do it slow and steady. 4. A lot of Sparkers don't have the blessing of having a live in partner (or husband, sister, roommate, whatever) who has the same health and nutrition aspirations. So I should quit my bitching and be grateful.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
You know what's awesome? Having a closet packed with clothes that don't even come close to fitting you, but can't bear to throw them away since you just did a closet purge. I know, I know, everybody says that you should clear out your closet because most likely when you lose the weight the clothes wont be back in style.
You know what I would be left with if I did that? Shoes (most of them worn out), pj pants, boyfriend's old t-shirts, two shirts suitable for class, one pair of pants, and two skirts. Granted, thats a lot more than other people have, but it seems a little on the low side compared to what I'm used to.
My mom was so incredibly kind enough to send me a bit of cash so I could at least find something to wear to class.
I'll admit, going to a new mall, in a new city, all by myself was a little bit anxiety inducing. Whenever I found a store that had clothes I liked, I quickly discovered that none of them had sizes that would fit me.
So I broke through my own prejudice and mental barrier and went into Lane Bryant. And while I couldn't really afford anything I liked, but I managed to find a pair of tights I liked in a cool color.
On a whim, I stopped into another store, and I was easily the youngest person in there by 30 years. And by chance, they actually had some stuff that fit me well and was in my style.
Once I had blown through all my cash, I finally saw it. A plus size clothing store for women in their teens and twenties. The models were beautiful, and full figured. Both the sales clerks looked well put together, and both of them "looked" overweight. While I didn't buy anything there, I do know that if for whatever reason I come across more money to spend on clothes, I'll be able to find something.
Shopping was a humbling experience. But I refuse to choke down the lie that I'm not beautiful because of my size, and that I'm unworthy of looking well put-together.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
One of the major premise of Eat to Live is that we should be having raw, leafy greens on a daily basis, and should comprise the bulk of what we consume for the day. Right now, I'm having a DELICIOUS smoothie with banana, blueberries, spinach, a clementine, and a little bit of almond milk.
The other night I stumbled upon rawfoodlove.blogspot.ca It's a really well written and beautiful blog that has tons of raw recipes. Some seem a little bit more doable that others, but I think I want to try to incorporate some of them throughout my week. Its just going to be an experiment to see what makes my body feel good.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
As a writer I've done my fair share of "environment writing,"(or “exploring the narrative environment” if you want to get more academic about it) but most of those were confined to urban settings. *Fun fact: I once turned in a collection of essays written entirely on napkins (I typed them up later) during my down time at my shifts at Starbucks*.
If I did happen to do any environment writing out in nature, it was purely due to an assignment from one of my writing professors. Perhaps it seems too grand—too many memories of reading Emerson and Thoreau in high school and thinking OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS, HAVE YOU READ THIS? NATURE! FRUGALITY! OUR PARENTS MESSED UP EVERYTHING AND SOCIETY IS CONTINUALLY OPPRESSING US!!!11 GAH!!
After I went off to college everything about Thoreau became so passé, relegated to 100 or 200 level classes. I felt that all the nature writing needed to be done by someone pure, someone who still believed in intoxicating passion of Thoreau-- not someone who types on a laptop while watching a movie and heating up chicken ramen in the microwave. It just seemed hypocritical to me.
So if I wouldn’t go walking and write about, what other reason would I have to walk? I've lived in many places where people just don’t walk. Baxter (who I mention in the last post), sums up his experience walking in England and Las Angeles nicely:
“But here in Las Angeles, on a street lined with apartment buildings, presumably all occupied, I saw no one. Worse, I sensed few people had stepped on this sidewalk in a year. In doorways seldom if ever opened, super market catelogs and menus for Chinese restaurants had gathered in drifts, yellowed and wrinkled by sun and rain. Crabgrass insinuated itself through gaps between concrete slabs, themselves dusted with grit like sand in a pharaoh’s tomb. Looking back, I saw my footprints outlined. Beyond well-tended lawns, neat signs on sticks poked up at the edge of flower beds. In England, they would have read Begonia acerifolia or Paeonia abchasica. Here they announced: WARNING! PROTECTED BY HIGH-TECH ARMED RESPONSE.” (Baxter, pg 15)
If not by general inertia, I’ve also lived in places where I didn’t walk due to fear. For two years I lived in a shady neighborhood that would warrant several “Campus Alert” emails in my inbox several times a week. Stabbings, robberies, gunshots and general assaults were common just within two blocks of my house. Not even my male 6’11” roommate would walk alone at night.
And in New Mexico? While I did live in a significantly safer neighborhood, most of the time it was far too hot to walk. Yes, the heat was dry, and in shade you could somewhat escape, but in the land of swamp coolers, not even being inside could guarantee coolness. For months on end all I could do was sit in front of the fan. Walking down to the corner store was too oppressive in the heat, I’d much rather drive my car with the AC at full blast.
In Seattle, it’s different. I've got the Burke-Gilman trail right behind my apartment. I see pedestrians and cyclists at all hours of the day. The weather is a beautiful 60s degrees and the trail is well lit at night.
But something stops me whenever I get the urge to walk. And I'm trying to figure out the root of this fear that keeps me from going out the door. Is it the fear that I'll get assaulted? Is it the pure physicality of walking just to walk? Am I afraid of the looks I'll get from fitter people jogging? Or am I afraid that I'll find it boring? The idea that its due to some sort of resurfacing social anxiety leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Who do I know here that I would have to be afraid of? It seems juvenile.
And yet, I can't seem to walk out the door. Going to the gym seems so much more respectable--its a space I've set aside for my health. It's easier for me to compartmentalize health, spirituality, social life, and academics than to view it as a whole. (I think I'm starting to have a deeper understanding of what I touched on in my previous post, "Spark Goals.") The notion seems radical to me to combine these different aspects--what if my health and academics, for example, were combined? What if I felt closer to God through walking? What if I lived a holistic life in which health permeated all aspects?
The idea terrifies me a little. I wonder if I'll ever get over this fear...
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