Okay. I'm very self-conscious at the moment. I looked more closely at the picture of the grandparents and grandchildren in the previous post and nearly gagged! I look like I weigh about 300 pounds! How did my daughter's camera do that to me! I'm aghast with fear and trembling. And what makes it worse . . . When I mentioned my horror at the way I look in this picture to my dear husband, he was rather non-plussed, non-committal. He gave me no comfort!!! Yeah, yeah, yeah. He couldn't have answered correctly whatever he said. I hear you out there! You know you said/thought it! The best answer is a consoling answer. There are several that come to mind.
There is a slight amount of solace however in my stockpile. (I tell myself.) Photos always make you look larger than life! That's why they want models that are six feet tall and weight 98 pounds. Poor souls. I could share the wealth. I'd be willing.
Now lets see: Hmmmm. How many trips up and down the stairs do I need to make in 30 minutes (and for how many days?) to lose 10 pounds? Oh, yeah. How many trips up and down the stairs can I make in ten minutes without getting winded? Hey! I can do that! I have done that. A week ago. Or was that week before last? Three weeks . . .
And the Pioneer Woman has a stair machine! I should ask her why she doesn't just install stairs in the Lodge remodel. If she had to go up and down stairs all day taking care of her 7.5 tons of laundry, she'd stay as slim and trim as her ballerina self is already anyway. And she's young enough to be my daughter and all that.
Sigh. No, I don't especially feel any better, but thanks for asking. Sniff. Since I was always underweight growing up and weighed only 130 just a few summers ago, (make that three) I just figured I'd always be okay. What ever happened?!!! I protest. I deny. I . . . I . . . I gotta get up and trek up and down those stairs. (Insert long pause.) Sooner or later . . .
Actually I have to go prepare myself for torture of another kind. Mammogram. Oh the sheer pain. Fibrocystic mess (masses?) complicates and increases the pain of an otherwise already painful exercise. Thinking of you, Debby. This pain is far more temporary than what you're dealing with. Prayers ascend for you today, etc.
5 comments:
Don't let guilt over what you're "supposed to look like" steal your joy. And believe me when I say, "I'm hip" to the feeling of dismay at of seeing your "less than svelt" self in all your fleshy glory (bet I've got more than you do. :) ). But also believe me when I say this: It's a great shot and you're cute as a button as the grandma holding her grandkids.
So climb those stairs and eat those veggies and aim for healthy and post more pictures of you and your grandkids.
PW - What Mary said. PW, you are what you are. You can change it, if you like. Or you can make peace with it, if you like. Whatever you decide, you must make sure that it doesn't take over your life, or limit it. Life is about way more than what you look like.
Mary and Debby, love you guys! You know how it is when (or if, in years past) you went to the carnival and looked at yourself in the "distorted" mirrors? That's kinda how this picture affected me. It was eye-opening. I know I should exercise--not so much to lose a few pounds, but because I need to keep healthy--healthier than I currently am, and I tend to write more than work physically. (Though I do enjoy working outside when the weather isn't sweltering.) I was more or less giving myself a pep-talk. I appreciate your concern and perspective. The deleted comment was not connected to this post, and the friend who commented asked me to delete it after reading it.
I'm going out to vote in a couple of minitues. Maybe I should walk to the polling place? It's only a 1.5 mile walk. No. I'm not going to run. I don't do that any more. (Except for short distances dashing after little grandchildren heading for potential danger. ;-}
Bad angle I reckon... you're quite beautiful! So stop picking on yourself... I mean it!!
Hugs
BB
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