it's weird, but,
I'm probably doing a better job weight lifting from our basement gym than I've done in over a decade, probably in better overall shape (relative to age) right now than since I had that personal trainer back in 2005.
Part of what's stressing my back in new and unusual ways is that I'm doing squats and lunges like never before in my life. The combo of bringing up the Christmas Tree on my own, with my various back exercises, pushed my body beyond its lifetime norms, I think.
But this combo of yoga, running, hiking, weight lifting, stretching, foam rolling, -- this is a lot of cross training. I'm challenging my body, pulling it in several directions over the course of a week. How many 53-year-olds are challenging their bodies like this?
One of the weird things about socializing last night, I felt fat, LOL. I was definitely the lightest and tightest of the three people at the dinner table, but I felt like I was on display in a way that I haven't felt in so long, because it is just me and T or just me. Before he moved, just me and K and he's never really cared whether I was in top shape or not. Felt on display in front of a gay man, and I felt like -- I CAN DO BETTER. Which is strange, because I am doing better. I had that tantrum back in June, when I felt like I wasn't exercising enough, but now I'm doing ALL THESE THINGS. Full-time telework allows me much more time for exercise than I've had ... since I was in graduate school.
But my OCD self wants to do even better. Wants to run more miles, show more abs, build bigger biceps, etc. Occasionally over the years K has expressed a kind of astonishment that I don't realize how attractive I am. That's a very old story, going back to my teenage years, when I felt the dark, tan, and skinny boys were hotter than me --> redhead, freckles, big frame.
Yet, K always said, when I'd ask, that I'm masculine, attractive. He never threw me out of bed, LOL. I've been living with body dysphoria and dysmorphia for decades, feeling like I'm not ... enough ... even when, like last night, I'm the most enough in the room.
I've had some terribly hot boyfriends, some of them model quality, although I do not require this of my partners. Yet, I work so hard. It's not just the gay shit, though. It's also that my parents were obese and died relatively young, they had so many health problems. I DO NOT WANT THAT TO BE ME. And, it isn't me. I'm not my parents. But this "not my parents" haunts me. And it combines with the gay boy dysphoria/dysmorphia. And the OCD. And that I actually enjoy exercise!
So, as Steve noted recently, I'm doing a lot of different kinds of exercise. This is the best way in which I'm taking advantage of the pandemic. Yet, it's not enough. Never enough.
Part of what's stressing my back in new and unusual ways is that I'm doing squats and lunges like never before in my life. The combo of bringing up the Christmas Tree on my own, with my various back exercises, pushed my body beyond its lifetime norms, I think.
But this combo of yoga, running, hiking, weight lifting, stretching, foam rolling, -- this is a lot of cross training. I'm challenging my body, pulling it in several directions over the course of a week. How many 53-year-olds are challenging their bodies like this?
One of the weird things about socializing last night, I felt fat, LOL. I was definitely the lightest and tightest of the three people at the dinner table, but I felt like I was on display in a way that I haven't felt in so long, because it is just me and T or just me. Before he moved, just me and K and he's never really cared whether I was in top shape or not. Felt on display in front of a gay man, and I felt like -- I CAN DO BETTER. Which is strange, because I am doing better. I had that tantrum back in June, when I felt like I wasn't exercising enough, but now I'm doing ALL THESE THINGS. Full-time telework allows me much more time for exercise than I've had ... since I was in graduate school.
But my OCD self wants to do even better. Wants to run more miles, show more abs, build bigger biceps, etc. Occasionally over the years K has expressed a kind of astonishment that I don't realize how attractive I am. That's a very old story, going back to my teenage years, when I felt the dark, tan, and skinny boys were hotter than me --> redhead, freckles, big frame.
Yet, K always said, when I'd ask, that I'm masculine, attractive. He never threw me out of bed, LOL. I've been living with body dysphoria and dysmorphia for decades, feeling like I'm not ... enough ... even when, like last night, I'm the most enough in the room.
I've had some terribly hot boyfriends, some of them model quality, although I do not require this of my partners. Yet, I work so hard. It's not just the gay shit, though. It's also that my parents were obese and died relatively young, they had so many health problems. I DO NOT WANT THAT TO BE ME. And, it isn't me. I'm not my parents. But this "not my parents" haunts me. And it combines with the gay boy dysphoria/dysmorphia. And the OCD. And that I actually enjoy exercise!
So, as Steve noted recently, I'm doing a lot of different kinds of exercise. This is the best way in which I'm taking advantage of the pandemic. Yet, it's not enough. Never enough.