Welcome to my blog. The purpose here is simple: to chronicle my thoughts, actions, plans, and goals in getting healthy in the year 2017. Feel free to look around and offer encouragement or suggestions.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

In Transition

I notice my weight loss much like I noticed my weight gain, not at all. While I get more and more friends and associates  commenting on my weight loss, I can honestly say that 35+ pounds lighter looks the same to me in the mirror as it always has. That is, until yesterday. Yesterday I visited the pool for the first time this year. While I was toweling off I noticed my lower legs look extra skinny. This goes along with my forearms, which I have been noticing look startlingly skinny while I'm driving. I commented on this to the friend I had with me and she said, "That's because you have tiny ankles...at least you don't have cankles." I'll admit, as a fat chick I have worried about developing cankles. I had cankles once in Vegas after walking the strip from Mandalay Bay all the way down to the Stratosphere Tower, a 4.5 mile walk, and back. That was, understandably, because my feet and legs were ridiculously swollen. Other than that I've been relatively cankle free, thank goodness. But enough about cankles. I guess the point is that I always kind of assumed I had hefty bone structure under all the fat, but it might not be the case. I'm kind of excited to find the small boned me that's hidden inside the fat chick.

That's another thing. Why do people insist on participating in assisted denial? I speak frequently about being fat. I never call myself fat in a derogatory or bitter way, but simply as a matter of fact. I AM fat. I made peace with that a long time ago. Sure I'm working towards not being fat anymore, but at the moment I'm fat and don't mind admitting it. So why is it that most people feel the need to vehemently deny that fact? Example: at the pool my friend suggested making a sarong out of my towel. While my towel was big, I was bigger and I knew that and said so. I said, "That won't work, I'm still fat." She scoffed at me and gave me this look that implied I was delusional. So I demonstrated. Sure enough, I was too fat for saronging. It made me wonder why admitting my fatness and being comfortable with it so clearly makes others so uncomfortable. That wasn't the first time, and certainly won't be the last, but I don't need anyone to deny my size on my behalf. Perhaps people feel that agreeing with me when I mention being fat might be rude, but I'd rather it garner no comment than enthusiastic denial.

But one thing is still true. At least I don't have cankles!

1 comment:

  1. I suffer from cankles and will always. :-) I love you JAS!