There's a song on my workout playlist which gives me pause now and then: "No Good Deed" from Wicked. The particular lyric that gets me is:
One question haunts and hurts too much, too much to mention
Was I really seeking good or just seeking attention?
When I hear that – usually panting away, several hundred calories along – I question my motivation for losing weight. I'd like to say that I have noble reasons, but the first thoughts that pop into my mind don't seem very noble. My motivations have to do with appearance, comfort, and activity. Look more closely though, and you'll find a common thread: being comfortable in my own skin.
Ever more frequently, I push myself to try things. Some of these things undoubtedly seem ridiculous to people with good self esteem. For example, last week my youngest and I arrived at a preschool open house but didn't see other people coming or going. I had to give myself a pep talk to just get out of the car and enter the building, fearing that I had the time wrong and would be an unwelcome interruption.
Other things I've tried would give a lot of my friends pause. In WOW, there's a contraption we occasionally use. When I first saw it and realized that David intended for us to use it, I was completely incredulous. There were no moving parts to this thing – nothing to lift or push. Picture two vertical posts connected near the floor by a horizontal bar. On one post is what looks like an overly padded, double-wide rectangular bicycle seat; on the other post is a crossbar wrapped in padding. That's it. It turns out that you lay with your pelvis on the rectangle, hold your legs and feet up behind you, parallel to the floor, under (not resting on) the padded crossbar. Then you dip down at the waist and lift – you're doing back extensions a couple feet off the ground while simultaneously holding your legs up.
The first time I was faced with this exercise, I was afraid of failing and of doing so in front of people. I was afraid of people seeing and laughing at my monstrous posterior in such a preposterous position. But I did it anyway. I did it to see if I could, and because it was interesting, and because I trust my trainer and classmates, and because I wanted to become stronger in so many ways. One of my favorite lines is "Fear is useless; what is needed is trust." So I struggled through and did as many extensions as I could, slipping and sliding backwards the whole time. Today I can do countless repetitions of the same exercise while holding onto a 20-pound weight, and I don't even wonder if I look like a giant goober. I know that I have good form and that I look strong. I feel strong.
The summer months at the pool are still are a little ways off. It's my top motivation: it's what I think about on cardio equipment and what I need to think about in the face of unhungry food temptations. Between now and then, I need to build my self-confidence to a level where I give barely a thought to what people might think when they see my jiggly body in a swimsuit. And I'd like to turn more of my fat into muscle. I'm happy to announce (I told myself I wouldn't put this in my blog, but I trust you not to laught at me) that I've dropped enough inches that in addition to jeans shopping, I must go bra shopping! With enough hard work, in a few more weeks or months, I'll shop for a new swimsuit, too.
~Karin
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