And by normal, I mean someone else's normal, not my normal.
My normal consists of doing basically whatever I like, whenever I like it. Eating whatever I like, exercising regularly, or not regularly, whenever I like it. This is not normal. Normal people enjoy their lives, with some element of planning, and some sort of routine. They deviate from this routine on special occasions, but a special occasion is not just 'Tuesday'.
We got back yesterday from our big trip. We travelled through New York, Toronto, Banff, Vancouver, and LA. It was bloody freezing. The whole trip was spent with two pairs of pants, and at least three layers on the top half, and always accessorized by our silly hats and double-layered gloves. Snot froze in our nostrils, Dave's beard formed icicles on short walks. My feet, normally quite hot, got chilly on more than one occasion. Our silly notions of walking hand in hand through snow-lined streets quickly turned to days spent in bed under the covers watching terrible cable TV.
The trip was marred by one thing. My weight. It became clear as soon as we arrived in Banff and got to the ski-hire shop that we wouldn't be skiing on our ski trip. Firstly, it took about 25 minutes to find boots for me as my calves were too big for most of them. I don't have exceptionally fat calves, but years of dancing on my toes have built up the muscles and the layer of fat that I do have on them made it super hard and super uncomfortable to get boots. Then came the clothing.
The embarrassment that having both a big bum and a bit of a tum that both don't cooperate in pants was enormous. The staff in the shops (yes, we tried three) were clearly uncomfortable every time I emerged from the fitting room with yet another disappointed look on my face. My husband was pissed off that they couldn't provide what I needed. I was pissed at myself and kept thinking of every time I had skipped a workout or scoffed a meal that I shouldn't have. I was in this position through my own fault. And I had ruined our honeymoon.
My husband, being the extremely supportive man that he is, returned all of his gear as well and we didn't ski. He didn't want to ski without me, even though I was perfectly prepared to sit at the top of the mountains with a book while he did. He explained that we had come here together, we were doing things together, and while he wanted to ski, he didn't want to ski alone, so no-one would be skiing. I was so upset that he couldn't do what he wanted because of me.
I was shocked that someone who was fit and healthy couldn't do something that they wanted because of something as silly as pants. I am fit and healthy. Aren't I? Actually, I'm fitter and healthier than other people my size, but the sheer fact is that I am not fit and healthy. My attitude towards myself is not fit and healthy. The way I treat my body tells anyone with a brain that I do not care about myself at all. While I feed my body what it needs, I also feed my emotions what they want. Needs and wants are two very different things, and the result of my giving in to my every want is that my husband could not teach me to ski, could not share with me the joy he had found in flying down a mountain.
And on that day, something changed within me.
I started looking around at other people. I thought back to the previous day when we had shared dinner in the swankiest restaurant in Toronto with my brother and his girlfriend. There was a choice of a 3 course meal, or ordering off the menu. I looked at the menu and was quite prepared to go with the 3 course meal, even though a lot of the options did not appeal to me. My brother's girlfriend decided she would have only 2 courses as dessert does not appeal to her. I thought about my own tastes and realised I wanted only a main and a dessert. No appetiser. I wasn't hungry enough. I would have happily eaten 3 courses and felt sick afterwards, but I didn't. My brother and his girlfriend ordered appetisers and mains, and my husband and I ordered mains and dessert. The world didn't stop turning just because I didn't have 3 courses.
I thought about people on MFP (MyFitnessPal) who had posted updates on how they needed to exercise a little more and eat a little less after a celebration meal full of bread and too much wine. I thought about people I admire, who do the same thing. Indulgences once in a while, sensible choices the rest of the time. Not reward and punishment, just normal.
For the next 10 days, I've tried to be normal. We didn't eat dessert every night. I didn't order my own dessert when we did have it, instead choosing to have a few bites of whatever Dave had ordered, or nothing if he didn't order one. I made some smarter choices, filling up on healthier offerings at the breakfast buffet and only having the decadent waffles covered in syrup a couple of times, rather than every morning. Eating when I'm hungry and trying to eat a bit slower, giving my body the time it needs to realise that I'm full before I feel sick. Delaying giving in to a craving of chocolate just because it's there. Eating only a portion of the food instead of mindlessly munching until the whole thing is gone. Deciding when I'm satisfied by the feeling, rather than because the plate is empty. Not using the excuse of 'we're on holiday' for me to eat everything sweet and carb-laden in sight.
I know all of these things. I've known them for a long time. I tend to let my excuses get in the way of my progress. I use rewards and punishments, constantly swinging between extremes. It's unhealthy. I'm not fit and healthy, I'm struggling. I'm going to struggle through this.
And the song that has just come up on my Pandora is 'Keep Breathing' by Ingrid Michaelson. 'All we can do is keep breathing'... the lyric that is repeated and repeated throughout the song. That's all I can do. I will plan my days, my workouts, my food. I will not make rash statements like 'I'm never eating chocolate again'. I will celebrate my successes by acknowledging them when I've earned them, not by rewarding and punishing like I have in the past. I don't know how long it will take me to change my habits. I've lived this way for as long as I can remember, so these ingrained responses to life's demands will be hard to change.
All I can do is keep breathing.
No comments:
Post a Comment