.Conquering Capital Hill.
It all started with buying new underwear.
Nothing special, the 6-pack from Target, although they are purple if that makes you feel better - it certainly makes me feel better. Back at home I couldn’t resist trying on that very night, you know, just to see… Well different brand, different cut, my stomach shows in a slightly different way, and I’m hit almost instantly with one of the many plagues of being female, ‘ohmygod I’m fat!’
It’s a sad world, yes it is. I don’t read fashion magazines, but still their message has penetrated us all. It bothered me to read a kid’s post to a Freezone message board calling Titanic-girl (forgot her name) fat. The last thing pre-teen girls need to be thinking about, if she’s fat then what does that make me!?, is how their bodies look at the very same age that nature is supposed to be adding fat to form breasts and hips. I can certainly remember being upset at the realization of my hips (and wondering what exercise would get rid of them.) It’s only recently that I’ve learned to love and accept them as womanly, and remind myself that before anorexic beauty took over, I could fit into the ideal beauty standard. I can even almost laugh when I try on a dress that’s obviously made for the opposite body structure as mine (that would be little hips, big boobs.)
My first decision was that diets are inherently evil and I will not go on one. I will not feel bad about myself for eating when I’m hungry. I will not feel bad about myself for non-diet food. Besides that would be just plain cruel considering Safeway put those Milano cookies on sale.
My second decision was to start actively exercising, which I started with a half-hour walk going up Capital Hill before work (going uphill seemed like more of a workout.) I found it hard to believe that “counts” considering the amount of walking I do in everyday life though.
After work, I decided to get ice cream (and I don’t care what anyone is thinking of this) and my payment to myself for it would be to walk there. So I walked. I walked from my work at 4th & Madison downtown, down to Pike, up Pike to Broadway on Capital Hill, down Broadway to Baskin Robbins. Bought my Mocha Blast and walked home from there.
It was quite an uplifting experience. Walking up the hill, easily I must say, I was considering what I call myself. “Fat” is a subjective word, but I must admit that don’t really consider myself fat… I dislike the look of my body sometimes and unfortunately there is no better word for us to use than “fat” for this feeling. Overweight is a better defined word, and according to the height-weight chart I looked myself up on, I am definitely not overweight. I could gain weight and still not be overweight. So what’s next going down the scale, “out of shape”? Well after conquering the hill with ease, I hardly think that I am out of shape either! I do hope my legs are sore tomorrow though, because then I will really feel I accomplished something.
Finally on my way back down, I remember that woman are naturally supposed to have this extra layer of fat, and this is probably all I have been obsessing over all along. Since our standard of beauty comes from women who spend 20 hours a day working to get rid of even this natural healthy part of themselves, it becomes understandably hard to accept ourselves as normal.
http://www.plusmodels.com - a good thing.