Thursday, July 03, 2014
..but I wasn't standing on it.
The woman who was was about my height, and seeing her made realize that perhaps getting under 130 wouldn't be a good look for me. I know getting under 120 wouldn't because my sister weighs 110 pounds. Despite my mother's constant criticisms that I was fat because I wasn't that size, I never envied my sister's skinniness. It works for her. But I like my hips and my butt. Somedays I even think I like my gut.
Nevertheless, getting under 130 has become my new arbitrary goal, even though I never managed to make it under the one I set six years ago of 140. (I came pretty close at 142.5.) I keep telling myself that it's because at 130 I'll be able to run faster and place in more races. It's because I'll continue my pattern of gaining 15 pounds and losing 30. It's because I want to lose weight. It's because I want people to notice and tell me how good I look again. It's because I want to be smaller. Or so I thought.
The same woman from the scale showed up in the fitness class I went to. Even though she appeared to be at least twice my age, I took comfort in the fact that she couldn't do all of the things I could. To be fair, I can't do most of the things in that class, but there are plenty of tiny women who can. Many use weights that double mine. However, I can outrun others during sprints. The point is it's all about balance and priorities.
Today I saw 129.6 on the scale. Today I decided that getting under 130 is no longer my goal. (I do intend to get closer to 140 after I shed some stress-related weight gain.) Today I decided that I want to develop more strength, endurance and flexibility.