Oh where does the time go?

Bad blogger, bad bad! My slack-ass approach to this space is certainly representative of my life lately though, happily, not of my fitness efforts. I’m still hitting the gym more often than not, and watching my food intake (though once again, actual tracking has fallen by the wayside. I blame the wedding and my mounting obsession with it. Boy, is that a time-suck), and I’m still fitting in to smaller clothes…though the scale continues its sad, lying ways. According to it, I gained five pounds this week. Oh ha ha.

Anyhow. I went to Toronto in early March for meetings (infused with croissants, as usual), a surprise party to celebrate my baby sister’s 30th birthday (yipe!) and the awesome wedding of Mean and Crazy, who, I am convinced, needs another nickname here.

Arrived back in Halifax and was promptly struck down with a flu so virulent it can only be described as avian. It was awful, but at the end of it, the scale showed me at 203, so at least I know the frigger isn’t actually broken. At least, it’s not so broken that it can’t register numbers below 205. Though it has, as noted above, gone right back to only registering numbers above. Considerably above, lately. What is that about? I have no idea, but thanks for asking.*

Resurfaced a week later in time to go to Winnipeg for…more meetings. Fewer croissants, though. But lots of being thrown off my routine.

And now I’m back. And spring is tentatively here…I spotted a grove of yellow crocuses on the morning walk today, but a winter’s-last-laugh blizzard is not out of the question. Still, I am enjoying the longer days, and have been doing a bit more walking…which I still find to be one of the best workouts. It’s low on the sweat metre, but high on the satisfaction-ometre. I’ve also committed to thrice-weekly body bar classes at the gym, a weekly yoga session, and an awesome class Mean and Crazy has put together (ok, new nickname…oh, let’s just call her the Asskicker. She’d like that). It’s three 90-minute classes, over successive Sundays, in which she teaches 10 or 11 of us how to get more out of classes we either already do, or are too scared to do. Yesterday, it was kickboxing…a class I have both loved and hated in the past. Next week: Spin.

!!

I must get to Canadian Tire to buy a gel seat. I have been assured my bits will hurt. I can take it. But if a gel seat can help, well, I’ll spend the 18 bucks.

This morning, on our walk, Professor Taco put forth the provocative idea that I’m not fat. Not sure how he figures that, given that I’m about 70 pounds overweight. But he claims that I’m not, by his understanding of the term, or by anyone’s. I have so little perspective on my body these days that I frankly don’t know what to say or think about that. Some days, I look at myself in the mirror at the gym, and I just see a regular girl, one with a sizable ass, to be sure, but not the incredible hulk, you know? Other days, I see the fat hanging off me as if it were an ill-fitting jumpsuit, and I just think off, off, get it off me! I still don’t know which of these is accurate. I suspect they both are, at any given time. It is exhausting, a little, this up-and-down, I’m-ok, oh-I-am-so-not-ok merry-go-round I’ve been riding lately. Next Sunday, at the gym, The Asskicker is going to make each of us say why we go to the gym. I have been thinking long and hard about that. Ostensibly, it is to get smaller, but since I don’t feel like I’ve had that result much since September, and yet I keep going, obviously, there’s something else at play there.

So what is it? To look good in my wedding dress? Uh, no. I clean up nice, regardless of my size. And anyhow, I started all this long before I knew there’d be a wedding. And I intend to keep up with it for my whole life, way beyond the wedding day. So, what then? This morning, on the walk (apparently it was quite momentous), I told Taco that I think I go to the gym to do the things I am afraid of, the things I think I cannot do. I go there to stop being afraid, and to just live.

So. That’s not nothing.

In fact, it’s something I’m going to have to chew on for a while. Because it seems to be true, and if it is, it’s way more profound than the size of my butt, you know?

* Hey, I probably know the answer to this, but…it’s not possible to gain five pounds of muscle in three days…is it?