Is THIS Bliss?!

Lorina's Blog

The First Four Weeks

Alrighty. Here’s my progress photos from the first of the year. Not a huge amount of change, but not really expecting much in just four weeks, and only lifting three of the last four weeks. And especially since I had birthday cake for breakfast four of the last seven days.

When I was actively blogging last time, I was more than a bit obsessive. I’m an over-tracker. I’d log my weight and every bite I ate, track my exercise on Runkeeper, MyFitnessPal, Fitocracy and a spreadsheet on my computer, plus a few running challenges on MFP, as well as taking measurements, progress photos and calculating my body fat percentage. My results were great. I looked fantastic. I felt great. Mostly. But in retrospect… it was fucking nuts.

Now, I haven’t logged my food since sometime in July. I get on the scale once in a while, but I don’t record my weight. I will take measurements at some point in the future, but that will be before sewing so I make the right size dress or costume. I still use Runkeeper… at least until my phone crashes and I lose my date (I broke my good phone and I’m using a dinosaur until I’m eligible for an upgrade). I just started using Fitocracy again to keep track of my lifts. I pop into MFP once in a while, but I rarely post. I will take progress photo, because I find them the most motivating.

Overall, I’m ok with how I look. I wouldn’t mind being a little leaner and more defined, but I’m not going to drive myself bonkers trying to achieve it. If it happens while I’m doing activities I enjoy and eating well (which is mostly nutrient dense foods in a good balance, with some yummy treats), wonderful. If it doesn’t, I’m still doing activities I enjoy and eating well.

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I’m back. Again.

And I really hope to stick with blogging this time.

Let’s see… since I last posted, I kept running, won a couple more medals (second in age group), trained for a half marathon, got up to 12 miles, had some problems with my Achilles and aheel spur and had to stop running for a while. *wah*


Well, that set me back quite a bit, and I’ve been running sporadically since October. Then my poor little dog, my one eyed Pekingese Beavis, went blind in his remaining eye. He’s adjusting to it well. Much better than I am. But for him, it’s, well… still fun and games. He gets more treats, more walks, more fun training like learning to jump through a hoop. The biggest change for him is that he gets carried up and down steps, and goes for walks instead of being let out in the yard to do is business. Pretty sweet deal for him!


For me, it’s been a lot of expenses and vet visits, a lot of eye drops, a lot of worry, and a lot of time on walks thinking, “JUST POOP ALREADY!” as he sniffs and snurfles looking for the exact right spot to drop a bomb. But seeing how happy he looks when he runs in the park? Worth it.

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Ain’t no gap on me…

If I didn't have a thigh gap when I was seven, why should I expect to have one now?

 

I keep this picture of myself on my desk. It’s from 1979, in my kiddie pool in the back yard. I was a skinny kid, and even then, my thighs touched. They always touched. They’re always going to touch. It’s just the way I’m built.

For someone else, a thigh gap is a perfectly natural and beautiful thing, but striving for one, when my body is designed otherwise, would be like striving make my feet a size 6 instead of a size 9. Not gonna happen. It’s nothing I ever worked to have, although I do sometimes wish my legs were smaller. That in itself is pretty silly… my legs look the way they look because of what they need to do. When I did have skinny legs, they were that couldn’t run and knees that popped out of joint if I squatted too low. If I want legs that can lift heavy weights and propel my body up steep hills, I need ones with more muscle.

This picture is also a reminder that there was a time when I didn’t think about my body, when how I looked didn’t matter to me, when I wasn’t self-conscious about my bum or my legs or my boobs. The only gap I was concerned with then was the giant one where my front teeth had been, and even that didn’t bother me.

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