So I’m back on the diet and exercise wagon. I can see a killer set of cheek bones peeking out under there, and I would like to see them. If my surgeon and I could each spend 10 years on our relative trajectories to get to this point, I think I can push through these last three months of work to get a sterling result.
And I’m tired of being overweight. And more importantly I’m tired of being obsessed with being overweight. I talk about it all the time – self-deprecating jokes about being chubby, whining about how guys won’t date me and I bet my bad luck is because I weigh more than I used to, oggling at how everyone in New York is so thin and constantly comparing myself to them and feeling bad about it, taking way too many selfies because at heart I’m incredibly insecure.
Not to mention this messed up mental soundtrack that’s been emerging – vacillating between feeling resentful toward men who I think are rejecting me for my weight (“What, you think you’re better than me? You’re not that good looking either. I can’t believe you think I’m not attractive enough for you.”), wondering whether I even want more men to be attracted to me if I lose weight (“Shouldn’t you love someone for the inside? Nearly everyone I’ve ever loved has been a person I was not initially attracted to who I came to think was insanely hot once I fell in love with some aspect of his personality. If it’s really love, isn’t that the way it should be? And these extra thirty pounds won’t matter anyway? And if they do matter, can I really be with that type of person, given that I’ll probably always be the type of person who puts on ten pounds at Christmas?”), and completely accepting the situation as logical (“Well, I can think of all sorts of superficial reasons I wasn’t attracted to so-and-so…”)
It’s all a boring, superficial schtick, and I want to devote my energies to cool and interesting things. Looking back I feel regret at how much attention I’ve paid to my appearance and what other people think of my appearance. When I think of what all that energy could have gone into…
I decided to try the Insanity workout, which is basically high intensity interval training. It’s HARD. Impossibly hard, and as I was laying on the floor taking a break, sweating and panting, I thought to myself, ‘It will take forever for this to not feel hard.’ And I turned my head to look at the workout and saw that the people on the DVD – these incredibly fit specimens – were also sweating and panting. And then I realized – you’ll never master it. It’s not about getting to a point where it’s not hard anymore. It’s about getting to a point where you feel okay with feeling uncomfortable.