notes on life

I think it's super interesting that I have zero support in my efforts to lose weight and work out more. The mister is supportive, but then he can be a bit of a shallow Hal and while he'd never say so again, (he made the mistake of commenting once), I know he likes it when I'm thinner. 

If I was heavy, there'd be high fives and encouragement and support. Instead, what I hear most often is,

'you're crazy...' 

'why are YOU trying to lose weight, you look fine...'

I'm not overweight, I know this. I also know that the older I get the harder it will be to lose. Extra weight on an almost fifty year old woman over the long haul becomes a health risk. There is high blood pressure in my family, cancer too. 

There are the statistics that say a middle-aged woman will gain X amount of pounds every year and dudes, I'm not a middle-aged statistic! I'm not ready to resign to the pigeon effect* and I admittedly love that most people are shocked when I tell them my age. I'm going to keep rocking that.

When I feel like my back is against a wall, it makes me want to fight more. Fuck the naysayers and judge-y comments. I KNOW my own body. I know when I feel good in my skin and when I don't. 

There's a healthy dose of vanity involved here, because I want to feel like this when I run into the ocean on my birthday. I'm realistic. I know that I won't begin shooting glitter out of my ass once I've reached my goal, but I know that I will feel better in the buff and that's what I'm working towards. 

*i call the thickening of the waist and breasts so that it becomes one big breast plate and the legs and hiney flattening and deflating as the pigeon effect.