Feel the Love

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I had a whole post pre-written for today about the metabolic woes of being days away from 44 years of age.  You know what I mean.  There comes a time in every woman’s life when suddenly every indulgence shows up somewhere almost immediately – and instead of landing on the hips and thighs, it might also make itself at home on the tummy, or on the arms, or (my favorite) on the BACK.  I mean, really. 

Thinking it over, I didn’t feel good about my planned post.  Even though I had scored some free, and really useful, advice from a fitness professional who happens to have a kitchen window that faces mine (so he can see when I’m scarfing a between-meal snack over my kitchen sink – and ask me what I’m eating), I felt preachy and uncomfortable sharing it here.  I will, if you want me to, but you didn’t ask and you may not give a rip.  This is supposed to be a knitting blog, right?

My alternative plan also feels a bit flat, now that I’m sitting here at the keyboard.  I have many thoughts about women’s hatred of their own bodies.   This topic has been covered so many times, tomes and tomes written about it, that my adding a droplet in the vast ocean of words seems futile.  I’ll share a couple of my thoughts, and then I’ll share something special to me.

I have been as guilty of self-hate and bad body image as any woman on the planet.  I’m not quit of it yet.  Two things have helped me stuff a sweat sock in it when I’m inclined to focus on some imperfection.  One, I have two daughters, teen and preteen.  They have very different body types.  Both are healthy and beautiful, and both will have their unique challenges maintaining healthy muscle and bone mass and body composition.   I have a responsibility to model healthy behaviors for them, and this includes refraining from discussing dieting or the size of my thighs in front of them. 

Two, I feel a lot differently about my body and its capabilities when I do something physically challenging.  Doesn’t matter what it is, and challenges are different for different folks.  I always feel better after I move around a little. 

I also have a role model.  I have a friend who is in her early 60s.  She’s one of the coolest people I know.  She’s gorgeous, full of energy and curiosity, incredibly intelligent, and obviously fun to be around.  (She knits, too!)   When she turned 50, she quit smoking and started working out.  She has thus far stuck to her plan, more than a decade strong.  She has done a triathlon or two, jumped on Pilates when no one knew what it was, and is always ready to try something new.  She’s the one who goaded me back to regular exercise when I was an exhausted young lawyer pup in my early 30s, between babies.  She took me to my first step aerobics and spinning (the bike kind) classes, showed me how to use an elliptical trainer, and kicked my butt when I wanted to sit on it instead of going to the gym.  She’d call and say “are you going to go take care of yourself today?”

I’m pretty sure this wonderful friend just started reading my blog, so I hope she sees this and realizes the influence she has had on me.  She taught me that there is absolutely no such thing as “too old” to do anything.  She also taught me to love my body and what it can do, instead of focusing on the things I can’t change.

I’d like to pay her gifts forward, if only to one person, which is the primary reason I keep stubbornly clinging to my Tuesday Training posts even though I know lots of you either skip them or maybe barely tolerate them.

So…  take care of yourselves today, OK?

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