Sorry, but I find myself posting once again on success.
The first time, way back in February, I asked you to explore with me various definitions of success. I count that post as one of my most successful simply because it seemed to have engaged you as readers. This past weekend (in June), my mother-in-law was telling me how the post had prompted a couple of days of cogitation, and she'd decided that what we consider success depends a lot on our stage of life. She shared that she feels successful at 76 because, in part, she's proud of what her children have done with their lives.
Just last week (okay, it was my last post - I've not been a very prolific blogger lately) I shared a post about success possibly having to do with personal satisfaction at doing hard things that are important to you. Yep, that one works for me, too.
Today, though, my thoughts about success turned in a different direction. A friend shared a post on Facebook from Female Fitness Motivation: Strong is the New Skinny. The post showed a woman running, and said, "I count my success in miles, not pounds."
Boy, howdy, is that a measure of success I'm trying to focus on lately. In the past two months, I've ridden nearly 350 miles on my bicycles, but I haven't lost a pound - at least not one that will have the courtesy to stay lost.
Yes, my belly's a bit smaller, as is my frightful double chin, and I appreciate that. My legs are developing solid muscles, and that's great. But honestly, what I really want to see when I step on the scale every morning is smaller numbers.
I tell myself that what's important is my ability to do things, and I really am proud that I can hop on my bike and ride for tens of miles without difficulty. I like that I'm a strong, capable woman.
But....
Several years ago I was walking into Barnes and Noble in Anchorage when I heard a wolf whistle. I looked around and this very skinny man said, "I bet you haven't gotten one of those lately. I like fat women." Needless to say, I didn't pay any further attention to him.
A few months ago, a male Facebook friend whom I haven't seen in person in over 20 years made a hateful comment about a woman, a stranger, who'd been in line in front of him and did something he didn't like. I don't remember the particulars about the situation, except that the most disparaging thing he could think to say about her was that she was fat. I do remember thinking that I hoped he didn't see me anytime soon.
Yep, I know that what I need to do is take firmer control of my eating habits and work harder to lose weight. I also know that's so much easier said than done. In the meantime, I'll keep working on accepting myself for who I am right now, and settle for being "fit but fat" as my friend Mandy would say.
And I'll accept all wolf whistles with a smile that says, "Of course I deserve that."
