When I was young, we lived out in the country. When it was nice out, my sister and I would ride our bikes into town. The ride into town was challenging, because it was mostly uphill. But the ride home was fabulous, because we could just coast, wind whipping through our hair.
What a simple pleasure.
When I am coasting, I am just happy and comfortable, there is no effort being put forth, and I am just enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.
Sounds a little too familiar.
I am applying the same concept to my diet and exercise.
I’ve been piddling around in the 250’s for the better part of 2 months. Up 2, down 1, up 1.5, down 3, up 2.5, etc. I am not exercising like I was because of my knees. (And yes I realize I am using that as an excuse.) I eat too much processed food, don’t drink enough water, don’t get enough sleep, and then complain because I’m not at my initial goal of 232.
Come on now.
I have figured out what my body needs to stay at this weight, and that’s what I do. But I also know why I’m doing it.
This journey is chock full of dichotomies. I want to be thin, but I’m scared to be. I am just as afraid of being accepted as I am of being rejected. I say I want attention from men, but when I get it, I claw their eyes out.
I mean it’s got to be completely exhausting for the spectators.
One of my male friends has been kind enough to inform me that I am very defensive and guarded. He’s right, I am. As well I believe all women should be, at least intially, with a new love interest. But he says I’m sarcastic and almost mean about it at times. This doesn’t surprise me. I often find myself making comments about men and their peters, and sounding like a militant lesbian. I don’t mean to. That’s just the way it comes off because I have experienced pain and I trust so few people these days, especially men.
Herein lies the problem with My Friend. I trust him completely. He has seen me quite vulnerable, he knows some pretty personal stuff about me, and is still around. But I don’t let him too close. I miss him terribly when we’re apart, but when we’re together, I spend the whole time distancing myself with body language and strange comments.
That comes from fear and insecurity.
And I’ve done this before.
My whole life I’ve hidden in various degrees of fatness to avoid intimacy. For years I was interested in a dear friend of mine. I was about 50 pounds overweight at the time. I stayed in that body because closeness was too much for me, but then I would seeth and cry because he went out with someone else.
I don’t want to let this happen again with My Friend, but I don’t know how to stop it. It’s like the antique lamp at Grandma’s house, falling off the table in slow motion. You see it happening, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
It’s extremely frustrating.
And I am coasting, intentionally, because I am scared.
Sooooooooooooo scared.
Time to take a detour, put on the helmet and knee pads, and hit the hard hills for all they’re worth.
