Ah, good ol’ delayed-onset muscle soreness, I’ve missed you! (Not really.) My legs are quite stiff today, which I expected, but it doesn’t make it any more fun. I like lifting and I love getting stronger, but the time in between hurts. I went back to the weight room today, to do upper body and core stuff, and hit it pretty hard. If I can trade off days of soreness between my upper and lower body, I’ll be okay with that!
I’ve been kicking around some ideas in my head lately, ideas that make me vaguely uneasy, so I need to take some time and write about them (and ask for feedback, too). After the race this week, I was pleased with my 3-minute improvement– I earned those 3 minutes. I trained hard. But I am acutely aware that there is another way to improve my time: I would need to lose weight.
(I’d wondered if all that running would lead to weight loss; it hasn’t. Which is okay– that’s not why I was training, after all. My body seems stable where it is, but I haven’t tried to change it, either.)
It is known that I hate races. Competition makes me weird. Finishing as the last runner on Monday was an ouchy data point on my psyche, and maybe I need to let that heal before making any choices.
I look in the mirror now, and for the most part I like what I see. I admire my curves and my muscles (I am totally guilty of flexing in mirrors). I bought a bikini for the summer, and it fits well and I think it looks great. Why do I want to change?
Maybe some things would be easier. Running would probably be easier. Maybe I would feel less conspicuous out in public. Facing legions of office ladies who want to congratulate me on weight loss would not be easier. (Seriously, that’s one of the things I dread. Weird!) But my only long-term weight loss was unintentional and tied to a pretty drastic life change; I don’t have any evidence that I’ll have success with pursuing it intentionally.
It says something about the amount of thin privilege I’ve gained that I might hope to aspire to more of it. I’m not in a place where I can reject it all; I have a bit. Just a bit. And I feel like I could have more, if I tried. But I’m not sure it’s worth it, or if it’s even possible.