Let's Get Real

OK, on my way home last night, I realized that I have been avoiding one of the central motivations of this crazy endeavor. I'm obsessed with how I look. So, that's nothing new, a lot of women (maybe most of them) are. But the thing is, it takes up so much energy. So much time. So much thought. "How will I look in this outfit at the race? Will I look fat, will my belly bulge, will my hips look ginormous?" "Why haven't I lost any weight? Does my butt look smaller? Does anyone notice my biceps? Wow, look at her biceps, she's ripped. I wish I looked like her." On and on and on. In truth, it was this obsession that led me to start working out again over a year ago. Don't get me wrong, the benefits I've received far outweigh the superficial. I focus a lot more on what my body can do than I used to - and in the heat of exercise, the constant diatribe of body worries nearly ceases. Maybe that's the real reason I do it. Not to look better but to stop, for just an hour or two, the constant stream of consciousness fixating on whether my body is less than (or more than) every other body. What a relief when there's quiet. The really sad thing to me (and perhaps its a relief as well) is that I know there are a lot of women - and men too - out there who do the same thing. Day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute. Why do we chew on this bitter morsel? Why do we keep rubbing our tongues on that sore? Do our minds need to give our bodies an inferiority complex?

I'm not sure if there's ever been more than a very brief period of time that I wasn't holding onto this. I wish I could find a way to make it stop.