All Good Things

The past ten days have been an amalgamation of fun surprises, reunions (both planned and otherwise), fantastic accomplishments, laughs and an abundance of good juicy stuff.

Since I last wrote I competed in my first organized group 5k. It was strange and emotional but I’m glad I did it, mostly just to know that I CAN do it. The most difficult part of the race was the start. I wasn’t expecting the chaos of runners jostling for position as well as packs of small children sprinting around in circles like wild rabid dogs. It was very distracting and not at all the relaxing mind numbing cruise of my solitary runs. However once I got into my groove I settled in and relied on a women 40 yards ahead with a swinging ponytail to lull me into a steady pace. 

The miles clicked off and soon I was turning the final corner of the course with the Finish Line glimmering just yards away. Wearily I entered into a pocket of empty space that traversed a tree lined canyon vibrating with the cheering fist pumping fast runners whom after completing the race focused their excess energy on encouraging the remaining pack.  As their wave of intense support pummeled my chest my throat tightened and my tears welled up, they were ALL cheering for me! As I stemmed my emotional  tidal-wave of gratitude a man about my age, tall and trim stepped off the curb, pointed to the finish line and shouted “That’s YOUR finish line, you OWN IT! You TAKE THAT FINISH LINE!” then he applauded so hard that I thought his palms would explode. My fire burned as my engine ignited and I felt my body fly weightlessly over the pavement as I TOOK my finish line with strength and power.

The same weekend I accomplished another feat of strength, but this was more emotional and mental… or so I thought it would be. As I mentioned in my last post I bought a two piece bathing ‘thing’ to wear when I paddle board but I was feeling so confident and strong on Saturday (after running 5 miles on Friday) that I popped it on, hopped aboard my Mom’s beach cruiser and took off for a 12 mile bike ride with a pit stop at Sag Main Beach. Before leaving the house with my pasty white wrinkly tummy all “out there” I needed just a little reinforcement so I snapped a bathroom mirror selfie and sent it off to Red informing her that  I was about to do something that I never dreamed I could do. I wasn’t fishing for compliments, what I needed was a bit of understanding and Red was right on target. She wished me luck, congratulated me on my bravery and sent me off on my adventure through the most expensive zip code in the USA, which of course is chock-a-block with ‘perfect’ looking women in their finniest and skimpiest haute couture après beach, golf, tennis, riding attire, etc... 

I thought I would have feelings of doubt or at least feel defeated when 'side eyed' by the fancy ladies, but I didn't, I didn’t feel any of that (nor did I receive any smirking). What I felt was freedom and power l as I peddled south of the highway with the sun and wind tickling my bare skin, skin that’s been denied these sensations since I graduated from rubber swimming bloomers . I oozed with happiness as my inner voice announced to the vines heavy with wine grapes, the corn fields as high as an elephant's eye and the 20 million dollar family compounds,  "I LOVE my strong body, this tremendous body that can run 5 miles (as of today 6.01 miles)  and do so many other fantastic things!!"

I cruised down to the beach in full Gee Sparkle mode where not only did I spread my towel and sun my middle but I also confidently strode down to the sea and owned that ocean as I broke through the waves and swam like an unchained mermaid.

Be The Inspiration

Now that my body is 2.5 years into its transformation I’m experiencing a new change. Once diagnosed with Hashimoto's the weight loss was shockingly fast, now after a year of a consistent body weight I feel my strength and stamina increasing in leaps and bounds.

My body amazes me, it’s this wondrous machine that constantly morphs and fills me with awe and amazement. Sure last year my body decided to fall apart and send me into an emotional spiral of anxiety and depression, that was ‘wondrous’ too, but more like a – what the fuck is going on with you – wondrous. Now I’m pushing hard and getting stronger and much to my enjoyment discovering inspiration from an endless fountain of awesomeness - and that fresh spring of power is ME!

Several weeks ago while plowing through my Tuesday spinning class I approached my scheduled breaking point…the body wrecking hill climb. For months I visualized Swason powering through her marathon training or Sweets calling out to me “Just a little further, you are so strong!” to pump a droplet of inspiration into my melting body but that day I did not call upon my virtual cheerleaders, that day I thought, “My legs are amazing, they are strong, and not only CAN I do this, but I have done it and I am AWESOME!” That day I became my own inspiration, my body, my soul, my tenacity is what inspired me, and continues to keep my adventure legs pushing stronger and further.

I try to remember how remarkable my powerful body is especially when my eyes fall to the areas of my skin that are scarred from the previous 40 years of body noncompliance. It sucks, and I don’t want to hate my body (I never did when I was larger), but I do have feelings of being cheated by biochemistry. Sure I could pay thousands of dollars for plastic surgery to remove the sagging elephant skin on my legs and tummy (I have stopped looking at my butt, I just like to assume it is juicy and full), but really shouldn’t I get my stupid dead tooth fixed first? Or maybe I should use that cash (that I don’t have) for something fun like a trip to Bali… ya see how that wrinkly skin doesn’t seem so bad anymore… ahhhh Bali.

Recently when a wave of body ughhhhh wafted over me I immediately signed up for a beginners stand up paddle board class and I killed it! I flew past those perfectly flawless skinned chicks and was the prized pupil, garnering praise from the instructor as well as my co-paddlers. My body does things, strong things, difficult things, and I know for certain that one hour of stand up paddle boarding is far superior to one saggy wrinkled tummy. Continuing on my strong body love-fest I did something last week that I have NEVER done before, I purchased a two piece athletic “bathing costume” (feels weird calling it a bathing suit). Even though my middle parts have not felt the warmth of direct sun since the age of 3 I decided to do it – buy an athletic sports bra swimming top and a cute pair of swimmy shorts so that my next venture out on the rental board will be a triumph for both my body and my head – crap I’m gonna need some SPF 70.

My Life In The Fatosphere

If you are totally confused as to why I’m on this route – go back and read my last entry - now continue.

I’m fat, I’ve always been fat, it’s not what I am it is who I am. I’m assuming a good comparison would be people who are gay or blind, it becomes who you are, not what you are.

There hasn’t been a time in my life that I wasn’t fat. I remember several year ago Lu looking at baby photo of me in full happy Buddha glory and proclaiming, “Like your Mom was surprised that you would never be a size 6 ?” (btw – this was not a jab at me) Oh Mom…. I knew she meant well but she didn’t know what to do with a fat daughter. She herself was the daughter of a woman who triumphed in the fact that she never weighed over 98 pounds, even pregnant. Yes this was my Tab addicted chain-smoking tight-assed grandmother who grabbed my 7 year old thigh as I sat shivering in an over air conditioned car and hissed, “How could YOU ever be cold, look at this.” – then gave my squishy leg a squeeze.

Being fat my entire life has formed me into the person I am. At age 40 I could not imagine my life as anything (anyone) different. And would I want to? I don’t know. Sure if I magically dropped 70lbs I assume my life would be easier, but would I still be me?

This influx of self reflection is the direct result of my recent diagnosis, it’s so conflicting to know that even though I am NOW contented with who I am (the majority of the time), was it all an unfair joke of the universe to grow up in this body? I don’t think anybody who has ever been thin would understand this feeling. To them a body is something to be conquered, or changed, or controlled. Mine is not. Mine is like an annoying tagalong that finally became accepted into the tribe out of mere exhaustion.

Last night at the gym while I was losing a lung and ¾ of my fluids I wondered what does it feel like for the people who were once skinny and now fat? I think there is a difference between people who have always been fat and those who once lived the life of a skinny person and now have chunked up. Do they harbor self hatred for what time and age has done to them? Do they long for something that used to be? Is it like how I feel about the bags under my eyes and my bitchy gray hairs, it’s annoying, it’s not “me”, but we age and things change? Maybe they used to be school athletes and now they wish for the past, maybe that’s why they are fighting so hard, to get BACK something. I never had that something, my past body and my present body are one and the same, this is all I know. This is me, it neither makes me happy nor sad, it just is. Over the past 30 years I’ve tried to morph my body, but I’ve never experienced any outcome from my labors, oddly though I’m at ease with this non-result based physicality, or maybe I’m just living a delusional existence in my self created reality.

Now with my thyroid diagnosis and medication I wonder how or even if my body will change. I’ve googled extensively and it seems that the only thing that MAY happen is that I go hyper anxiety wacky (great) or bloat out my belly (hot). **Side note - Yet again my Masters in Childhood Education does NOTHING to help in my non professional internet medical research – one day I will find a use for that 40K piece of paper.** One would think that by shooting up my body with the thyroid hormones it’s been lacking for 30+ years I would somehow jump start the whole system, but strangely (from what I think I understand) your body finds a “home base” and even with the hormones my body will fight the change tooth and nail. Long story short - I’m a store house, not a burner AKA I’m built for comfort, not for speed.