Monday, June 28, 2010
Skorts & Thighs & Bikes, Oh, My!
This is my new workout skort. I love it. I love the fabric and I love how cool it feels on these oppressively hot and humid days.
I hate, on the other hand, taking and showing you a picture of said skort as it rests on my body. I cannot even fathom showing you a clearer, better, more-body-involved photo, so this is what you get.
I hated the thought, also, of wearing this out in public. I thought, for the time being (read: Until I lose more weight), that I would just wear it inside to dance and do yoga and all of that...in private...in my house...with the curtains closed...by myself.
You get the idea.
"You have the thighs of your mother's family...you'll never get rid of those..."
A relative started saying that to me when I was about eleven and kept saying it every summer as I was growing up. She didn't speak the words so much as spew them and they would slap against me before dripping to a puddle of toxic self-hate at my feet.
I look in the mirror and fixate on those thighs.
I curse those genes.
Here's the thing: I have dropped FOUR sizes in about ten months. Four. And not because I was doing the whole psycho eat-nothing thing. Oh, no...this dropping of sizes has totally been from the Joy of Dancing. Dancing...this is what I do now and my body has been all like, "Thank YOU!!"
My body has always been super fast at responding to physical activity -- if not just to push home the idea that physical is what I am supposed to be.
Back to the bike: I am not ready to share my thighs with the whole world. Nope. Not ready at all. BUT...
BUT...I did take my ass out of this house, wearing that skort.
I walked across the front lawn, all the while hearing whispered voices coming from the houses around us (or more accurately from inside my brain): "Look at her! Why? Why would she wear that?!"
I got on my bike and rode. I rode past all the cars and trucks and people walking their dogs and people crossing the street and I kept hearing those voices. I rode through a tunnel of those voices coming at me from every freaking angle. I rode into them and pushed harder, as if into a stormy headwind.
"Look at her! Look at her thighs!"
My legs pumped up and down, and I tried with all my might to focus on the feeling of my muscles working so much stronger than ever before in my life. I thought about the balance and the grace with which those muscles gift me.
I am not ready to show you, the Wider World, my thighs, but I took them for a ride on Friday in my smaller world, and I think that is a big First step.