I have a summer holiday in Turkey booked for June,I have vowed to get in shape for it.I’ve got a home gym in the garage made up of various fads I’ve had in the past.There’s a cross trainer that sorted out my baby weight left from having my daughter Leah,there’s the rowing machine i had to shed the baby weight left from my son Sammy,there’s the treadmill i bullied my neighbours mercilessly for a year untill they sold it to me (to be fair they were using it as a bloody clothes horse!!) and there’s the weights trainer that my hubby would tell you he uses,but in reality i can’t remember the last time it had weight put on it .My rather handy hubby has installed a ceiling,IR heating and a wood floor. It’s also Wednesday,and on a Wednesday i was going to visit my gym come hell or high water. Truth is Wednesday is the only day in the week i don’t work in the daytime (I go in at half five to count stuff instead) so it makes sense to do a little exercise on a wednesday.All it takes is that short walk down the path and I’m there.But i’m not,im still here talking to myself!
I want to wear a bikini on holiday ,not a one piece or a tankini.The one piece costume seems to have a wonderful knack of making my boobs look flatter and my arse look fatter,and the tankini hides the bit of my body that is really quite skinny.(Under my boobs where the bra line stops,in case you were wondering). I really don’t want to wear ethier one poolside. Pool….side, you understand as I don’t get in the pool unless my life depended on it.I hate my hair getting wet,I hate children splashing ,I like being hot,really hot, a hot you never get in this beautiful country we live in,where it rains 99% of the fucking time. I don’t see the point of cooling down on holiday,if i wanted to stay cool i’d holiday in Cornwall, i go on holiday to get hot.
I want to look great in a bikini without running on my treadmill.Today I don’t want to have to run to nowhere.My bumcheeks don’t want to create their own gravitational force,my stomach muscles don’t want to pull me into another sit up and to be honest i would rather go back to bed.
There it is in a nutshell really,why are things that are good for us so hard? Why do we to try to look a way that most of us will never achieve anyway? Don’t get me wrong,i don’t class myself as fat.I’ve never been obese or morbidly obese, I’m usually somewhere between the upper end of the normal weight Bmi scale or just into the overweight category of the Bmi scale, when I don’t use the gym or I eat what I want to rather than what’s actually good for me. But i feel pressure to look and work towards someone elses ideal.I think society has to take some blame,i do read the ridiculous magazines that will portray a larger figure to be a figure much like Beyonces.I hate to disagree but she is about eight or nine stone max, she is hardly plus size is she? But i’m intelligent enough to realise those magazines are complete bollocks and i should probably not give the publishers my hard-earned money,(well my earned money at least).
I’m not critical towards other people’s bodies in the slightest,I’ll be the first to point out your amazing bone structure or reply ‘don’t be daft you’re not fat, you’re perfectly in proportion and by god look at that amazing rack’,or when you winge I’ll say how boring it would be if we were all the same but I find it hard to extend the same kindness to myself .I understand and like my personality (we talk for hours ;-D) but I am so critical of my body that houses it!
I’m wondering exactly where it stems from,i had a happy childhood and i can’t remember even worrying about my body shape as a child,i don’t think it was on my radar.Although i did get involved in my first relationship of four years at a very young age,age 14,with a lad who had crippling self-esteem issues so maybe a bit rubbed off on me in my teens.
I also got married young and had my daughter quite young,I was only 19 years old when I fell pregnant with Leah ,and I found it incredibly difficult to cope with the changes pregnancy had made to my figure after she was born,just before my 20th birthday.I had thought baby weight just comes off naturally,in my case, this just isn’t true. So after feeling unhappy for about a year,waiting for it to fall off ,all the while stuffing myself with nahn breads as a tasty brunch snack or family sized chocolate bars as they ‘were cheaper’. I took matters into my own hands and put myself on a strict diet and vigorous exercise regime where i trained in the gym four mornings a week,plus using a cross trainer in the evenings and i used to Rollerblade on a weekend. I also cut out processed foods,starchy white carbs,sweet things,well most foods to be honest,i lived on protein and veg with two squares of dark chocolate as a treat.
I did find the exercise addictive and i think it was a crutch for a rather difficult time of my life too.I loved my daughter unreservedly but I found adjusting to being a young mother and the move to Germany to live with my husband difficult.Within the first two years of Leah’s life ,my mother battled an aggressive breast cancer and my sister was diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder plus manic depression for good measure (bi polar disease) so it was a tough time within our family and quite simply i missed my parents and my sister beyond belief when I couldn’t see them regularly ,as well as adjusting to the fact I was a mother and housewife already at 20.
So back to the weight issue as I’m off on a tangent.I held this figure and lifestyle for about four years .I felt I looked fantastic but it didn’t make me any happier,i was just as up and down as always. It didn’t change any problems in my life.
I found once I’d moved back to the UK, I was able to relax a little,with the input of family and close friends,i became slightly less obsessive with my diet and exercise routine. I gained a little bit of weight and a life.We then made the decision to have another child and Sam left me with a bit of extra weight too.I again sold into the idea of thin is sexy and joined weight watchers,it worked for me I was back to eight stone ish in no time.Problem was I couldn’t hold it off,as soon as I started to eat like a person rather than a mouse I regained it with some more on top.
Right now I’ve managed through not overeating but not dieting and occasional jaunts into my gym, to lose some weight and tone up a bit,but i’m far from eight stone,so here we are right back where I’ve started.I want to wear that bikini for my holiday,did i say? So to gym or not to gym that is the question,isn’t it? Or is it still a question of self esteem?