Saturday, January 19, 2013
When I was three hundred pounds, I knew my body. Seems kind of strange to say that. I didn't like my body, but I knew it. It was comfortable and familiar despite it's faults. I knew how much clearance I needed for hallways and doors, how much it hated the turnstile, how it handled around corners or down stairs. I could maneuver my three hundred pound self.
This new model I got is weird.
That's what going from bigger to smaller feels like. It's as if I drove a semi truck my whole life and now suddenly, I'm driving a, (don't think I'm going to say Porsche or some other tiny sports car. I weigh two hundred pounds.) small SUV. A Honda CRV or something in that range.
For instance, the frame on my new model is different. I was rubbing my neck a while ago and I felt something I couldn't remember ever feeling. Bone. It was right under my skin. It used to be buried six inches down under layers of fatty insulation. I had a bone in my neck, and collarbones, and ankles, and a chin. I had hipbones! Hipbones! Do you hear me? Hipbones! I thought those were myths like unicorns or something.
And this model handles so much differently than my last one. It moves faster, zips through spaces that would have made me raise an eyebrow and laugh before. It balances different. Seems funny, but I do fall down a lot more because I don't know how to drive this body yet.
And this model feels a lot newer. It doesn't break down as much as my last one. The things I do now are almost unbelieveable. Running two miles a day! The old model would have broke down, busting joints, leaking oils, dead battery if it had even attempted what I'm doing now.
Someday, hopefully sooner than later, I want to read this blog and think about when I was an SUV. Hopefully on that day I will be the sports car.