Soapbox - Beware

As much as I'd like to deny it, I'll admit it. Like all (N. American) women I have body issues. And I say all NA women because our culture teaches us to have issues. I know, I know. There are some women out there who claim "I love myself just the way I am".

They're lying.

Maybe they just have a little birthmark somewhere they wish were not quite as dark as it is. Although not pining for a rhinoplasty or a boob job, it's still something they think about. So yes, there are definitely different degrees/ levels of body happiness. And I think the level can easily fluctuate for one person throughout the day. You know what I mean. You think you're having a chubby day but then you change outfits and all of a sudden you don't feel so fat anymore.

I've have always been, and still am, a big proponent of being "healthy" as opposed to "thin". Because "thin" does not equal healthy, as we all know. I saw this quote just now as I was skimming through my favorite running info website:

"get fit. get healthy. the thin will come."

My first reaction was "that's great!" Because generally speaking, healthy people are lean. But then the more I thought about it I realized I don't think it's true. Because I'm the perfect example right now of how that's NOT true.

Stay with me here 'cuz I'm going to roll a few topics all in to one.

Y'all know I trained for and just ran my first half marathon. There were two reasons I did this. 1) incentive to do cardio during the abysmally blah winters here and 2) drop a few pounds.

Long story kinda shorter - I ran this HM at the exact same weight as when I started training. I know what you're going to say -"but you gained muscle".

Bullshit.

This reminds me, haven't I already bitched about this recently?? Anyway - I've been an athlete long enough to be able to tell when my body is changing due to activity or just being a stubborn old bitch. And it's being a bitch, no doubt.


Am I "fit"? I would think running a half marathon in 3 hours or better constitutes "fit". It may not be "fast", but it sure as hell qualifies for "fit".

Am I "healthy"? Sure! I'm no longer anemic. My cholesterol has lowered. My doctor has been able to take me off my migraine meds. My thyroid is normal. I can't really think of anything that isn't "healthy". (cholesterol is still high but a lot lower than before and I haven't been on meds for a few years now.)

Am I "thin"? This is tricky, of course. "Thin" is subjective. I actually prefer "trim". As in not loads of fat hanging around in places it doesn't belong. Will I get back the washboard abs and legs I had in college? It would be nice but I doubt it. And that's ok. I thought training for a half marathon would surely shed a few pounds. Maybe not 25. But a few. Or at least the number on scale might stay the same but I'd fit into my clothes better. That was my definition of "thin for me".

Kids, it ain't happenin'...

And of course this is all hitting home just as I prepare to go to a ball. When I say ball, I mean men in tuxes and women required to wear floor length gowns.

Pick yourself up off the floor. You did read that correctly. I'm going to a ball where I am required to wear, not only a dress, but a floor length one! And I'm going to the ball willingly. There is no force involved here. (which I'm sure those of you that know me can't believe I'd put on a GOWN without a gun to my head. except maybe for my own wedding...) not only that but I'm NOT wearing running shoes with it either.

On one hand I'm very excited to go to the ball. We were invited to go by the hubby's BFF from college and his wife. The ball itself is in Mobile, AL. However, my excitement dissipated the moment I had to find a dress. This is not surprising given my love *snort*snort* of clothes shopping. KVeg and I set out one Friday night to the "big" mall in town to find what I needed.

It's a mall. I was under the impression that the purpose of a mall was a "one stop shop" for all your clothing and accessory needs. I hit Macy's. Nuthin'. Lord & Taylor, eh, a few possibilities.

Did I mention that I refused to spend a lot of $$?? C'mon. This is a dress I'm pretty sure I'll only wear once...

I got a dress at L&T. There were more dress shops out of the mall but that would require returning on Saturday and more shopping and more trying on of clothes.

Nope. This one will do just fine thank you.

But it required a strapless bra. Which I do not own.

So off to do my second most hated shopping - BRAS! We went straight to VS. I swore if they didn't have what I needed I was going bra less. Because nothing is worth going through this hassle. Luckily they had what I needed. Rather something that would suffice.

The mall was about to close so the shoes and any other extras would have to wait.

Did I mention the dress is clingy?? Yep. And my frickin' saddlebags were ALL OVER the place. Also, I apparently have developed a tummy. Saddlebags I've had since college. I hate them but I've grown used to them. I've always had a flat stomach so this kinda kicked me in the head. Maybe for you it's not a flat stomach. Maybe it was when you discovered your shapely arms grew chicken skin. Maybe it was when your curvy boobies wouldn't stay put in your brassiere anymore. We have different issues but I'm hoping you can relate.

This, my friends, is when the "meltdown" occurred. And I'm sure it had to do with the timing of when I just ran my first HM. How is it possible that I just ran 13.1 miles (and the training required to it) and am finding my body in worse shape??

And the hubby - trying his darnedest to be supportive - "Honey we'll start running together." accidentally made it worse.

"WHAT the F%*K?!?! I HAVE been running you moron!! And NOTHING HAPPENED!! How in the F&#K will running with you make me lose weight when I haven't already?!?! "

(when I get really angry I'm the queen-o-F-bombs...)

Ok, before you report me to the authorities for verbally abusing my husband, I did not say that out loud to him. But that's what I was thinking. At least I don't think I said it out loud.... I can only recall a blinding red haze and a blaring siren noise going off in my head at the time...

So I did what most women do - I went upstairs and pouted. For TWO days.

The story isn't quite over yet but I'm sure you're tired of reading at this point. So I'll leave the rest of the story for another day. Don't miss the next installment titled:

Why Spanx-brand Really is Worth the Money and MiracleSuit-brand Can Kiss My Ass.