"In Shape"

Recently, as I was checking off another day of "movement" for the Zooma Holiday Challenge, I found myself reflecting on my fitness. I've never stuck with a workout challenge this long before while feeling this good; I thought to myself, "Am I in the best shape of my life? I'm definitely in better shape than I was in my 20s."

My realization that I'm in "better shape" now than 10 years ago gave me pause. My immediate reaction was, "What does that even mean?"

[Insert overdone "I'm in shape/a circle is a shape" meme here]

The term "in shape" feels a little overused, like it should be retired for people who aren't actively competing in sport. What does being "in shape" mean for us weekend warriors and hobby runners? Especially this year, when races were canceled but many of us kept running, what exactly are we "in shape" for? It feels like a term that doesn't apply to me, and I wonder if the connotations that go with it are detrimental to people who want to start working out.

I think what's suddenly putting me off this phrase is the implied meaning. Anyone who exercises will tell you it's not about what you look like; it's about the physical capabilities you've developed and honed over time. Someone in fighting shape is physically prepared to get into the ring; someone in racing shape is ready to toe the starting line. It doesn't actually have anything to do with our body shape.

But people seem to misconstrue being "in shape" with looking a certain way, and that's not right or accurate. Shape has a connotation of form, something you can see, but it's much more than that.

I weigh more than I did in my 20s, and it's visible; I'm stronger, but you can't see obvious muscle definition in my body. My cardiovascular health is worlds better. When I began running, I couldn't run a half mile without stopping; today, I've completed three marathons and a slew of other races.

And we've all seen professional athletes who don't fit the stereotypical mould but are obviously fierce competitors.

Being "in shape" also connotes an end point, as if there is a final destination in the journey of fitness. But the truth is, there is no destination. Fitness waxes and wanes; there is no final shape to achieve. Even body builders don't stay in physique-competition-form all year round. Actors get fit for certain roles and then let their bodies recover. Singers get into performance shape for intense concerts and then relax after their tours end. 

There are lots of articles about how actors etc gain and lose weight for roles, and it's obvious it's not sustainable longterm. This listicle has a good collection of examples.

No one stays in peak shape forever, and the shape our bodies return to during the off season is perfectly fine and valid. In fact, getting out of shape during off periods is good for us! Our bodies need to recover from the intense exercise and restriction that's necessary for peak performance. It's all about balance.

It's just semantics, and maybe this won't resonate with anyone else, but I am going to retire this mindset for myself. I don't want to think about my shape, whether I'm in or out. I want to let myself continue exploring fitness with flexibility and the understanding that physical shape doesn't have anything to do with it. I'll go through seasons where my body looks and performs in different ways, and that's normal.

For me, being seeking to be in shape feels too much like a dead-end, and I'm here for the journey.

ABK

In Which I Talk About My Size

Fair warning: I am writing about clothing sizes and therefore writing about what size I wear in this post. I don't usually talk about that kind of stuff. I'm not making any comment on body sizes in general in this post, but about how sizes in women's fashion are all over the place and my own experience with my body right now. If you don't want to read about what size clothes I wear or my thoughts on how arbitrary American sizing is, skip this post.

Also, this is long. Sorry.

This weekend, for the first time in ages, I went shopping. I had a list of things I'd been wanting for awhile, and took advantage of Matt being out of town for a race to have a girl's afternoon with Elizabeth.

At the top of my list was "holey jeans". I used to hate torn jeans because I don't understand spending a lot of money on clothes that are already destroyed, but the trend has brainwashed me over time and I wanted a pair. Even though I'm too old to shop there, I decided to go to American Eagle because I know their jeans fit me and jean shopping can be traumatic, so I wanted to go somewhere I felt comfortable and "knew my size". Oh, the irony.

At AE, I found jeans in two different styles that looked promising: the jegging and the tomgirl.

Jeggings on the left, tomgirl on the right.

I took one look at the jegging and I grabbed a size 4. I didn't think too much of it, except to realize that I was about to try on a size I'd never bought before. I was sizing up.

I didn't have a problem with fitting into a larger size, but I was wondering how my body had changed so much in a year without my noticing it, especially considering how in-tune with it I've been since surgery. I accepted the change in my size but felt a little thrown off. My other clothes all fit. I am very happy with where my body is right now, especially as I've been able to run again, and I just felt a little baffled. (Of course, I immediately assumed my body had changed, and not the sizing at AE.)

Then, I grabbed the tomgirl, and, in the same way I knew I needed a 4 in the jeggings, I knew I needed a 0 here. In fact, the 0 was bigger than the 4 I had hung over my arm.

Obviously the tomgirl style is more relaxed in the legs, but it makes no sense to me that the actual sizing would be different because even if the style is different, if you're size X in something at a store, you should be that same size across the board, no matter the style. But the waist of the 0 in the tomgirl style jeans was a good inch - maybe even 1.5 inches - bigger than the 4 in the other style. I pointed this out to Elizabeth; we both found it ridiculous. When I tried them on, both styles fit me.

(As I was writing this, I remembered this video I saw a few weeks ago about how sizing is ridiculous and lawless.)

Now, this experience came a week after I measured myself for my groomsmaid's dress for Scott and Robby's wedding. That day, I was a little upset that my waist was bigger than I remembered it being when I last measured it in...well, maybe way back in high school, to be honest. I looked in the mirror and suddenly, for the first time in months, was unhappy with what I saw.

And then I was upset for being upset, because like I said above, I'm very happy with my body and its abilities these days, and I'm confident in how it looks. I should be past being upset over arbitrary things like sizes and inches!

Literally the day after I measured myself I was over it and totally happy with myself again, but it was frustrating that putting a number on my body derailed my self-acceptance so easily, if only for a short time.

Back to jeans shopping. Because we went shopping so soon after the dress experience, I felt kind of inoculated to the shock of picking up a size of jeans larger than I'd ever worn before. Like I said, I was surprised, but I didn't experience the kind of self-hatred spiral that I may have in the past, before I really came to terms with my body. I didn't have a major reaction until I'd compared the two jeans and realized how absolutely and totally bonkers American clothing sizing is when it comes to women's fashion. I mean, I knew this before, but to see it laid out for me so clearly was almost funny.

Here we were, in one store, a single brand of clothing, a single type of clothing, and there was a four-size difference between the two jeans that fit me!

I ended up going with the tomgirl because I had wanted a relaxed, airy, comfortable jean for summer. I also branched out of my comfort zone and bought a lighter wash that I've ever owned. The rest of our shopping trip was uneventful; I found most of the other items on my list and we had Moe's for dinner. But I couldn't stop thinking about how messed up women's sizes are.

The fact that women have to play a guessing game every time we go shopping, and yet shopping is marketed as something women should want to do and have fun doing, is ludicrous. Shopping is stressful. If clothes don't look good we tend to blame ourselves instead of the fit or style. I had to remind myself that I'm not made to fit clothes; they're made to fit me. I'd love to see some kind of standard in sizing for women's clothes. I dealt with fitting into a larger size without an issue, but many women struggle with accepting the number on a tag - even though we know the number doesn't even mean anything.

My point is that I hope I remember this story the next time I go shopping and have to size up. Sizes are totally arbitrary and bodies come in all shapes and sizes. Every body is valid and deserves to be dressed in a way that is comfortable and flattering. What the tag says doesn't matter. Feeling confident, strong, sexy, cute, or whatever feeling you're going for in those jeans? That's what maters.

ABK

TOL - Just Some Things

Today I'm linking up with Amanda at Running with Spoons to share some random thoughts.

1. More kitchen stuff! Our kitchen island came! I spent over four hours putting it together all by myself. It was a pain because the instructions weren't clear about which way certain boards had to face, so I ended up taking it apart and starting over twice.

I insisted on building this all alone and it SUCKED but now I feel like I can do anything!

But it's gorgeous! I built the doors and drawer and lifted the granite top (which is real granite and so freaking heavy) and everything! I was pretty proud.

It was really hard to get a good angle in these photos but you get the idea!

I've already used it to prep breakfast and dinner and I'm so glad I finally decided to just jump in and buy one - Matt and I had debated getting an island for months but it was definitely the right choice. 

2. Self-love. This week I realized how far I've come in the "body acceptance" area of my life. Like, I've finally gone from "acceptance" to full on embracing my body.

Instagram always brings up a lot of fitness accounts when I'm scrolling through searching for new people to follow, and often that means "fitspo"-type posts come up. Looking at some of those photos this week, I found that I wasn't comparing myself to IG accounts of perfectly fit or impossibly thin women.

I've spoken only briefly of it in the past, but I've dealt with disordered eating and I was surprised and proud to see that my mindset has finally naturally shifted away from wanting a waif-like body. (Some people are naturally waif-like, and that's fine, but that's not me.) I've never been happier with where my body is and what it's capable of, and it felt really good to avoid that comparison trap completely without having to consciously readjust my mindset.

3. RUNNING! Getting four runs in last week, even if our "long run" was shorter than planned, felt so good. I told Elizabeth after one of my two runs in late December that my body and mind felt good after running even if my legs didn't - I forget how important running is to my over-all wellbeing. I am so, so happy to be running again.

It feels great to be back!

Elizabeth raised a good point when so many people teased us for wearing long sleeves on our run Sunday...It literally goes from 80+ degrees to 50s overnight in Florida. We never acclimate to winter properly because the temperature drops 30 degrees without warning! That makes me feel better about how cold I felt!

4. Conversations on the run. While running one afternoon, Elizabeth and I received a few more honks than usual. (One of them was very encouraging and called out, "Keep it up, girls!" but the rest were just obnoxious as usual.)

We'd been having a normal running conversation, but eventually I couldn't ignore how strange it was that we'd received more honks during this one run than on the last dozen combined.

Me: "I wonder if we look really good right now, or if we look like we're dying and need to be woken up. Or if they think this is our New Year's resolution and they're trying to encourage us?"

E: "I wonder if they'd honk at us if they knew we were talking about poop."

I died laughing. Seriously! I imagine the people who honk and catcall would be pretty surprised if we turned around and told them we'd been talking about how running wreaks havoc on your intestinal tract.

We joked a little bit about maybe getting shirts that say WE'RE TALKING ABOUT POOP on the back so drivers have fair warning. It might make a good deterrent!

5. Candids. And, just because, here's an outtake from our workout picture from Monday. An old student had stopped by as we finished up, so he took the photo, and we were joking around about how we should pose.

Me: Let's look really sad that our arms hurt now. E: You are a dork.

What are some random things going on in your life this week?
Have you ever built furniture? (IKEA counts!)

ABK

Freedom from Fear (and Shirts)

I've always wanted to be a runner who could run shirtless. I used to tell myself, "One day, when I'm fit enough, that will be me." My primary reason for setting this goal is that running in Florida is hot and every layer makes a difference. You wouldn't think shedding one thin, breathable layer would make much difference, but it really does. My primary reason for putting the goal off? I didn't think I looked fit enough to "deserve" to run shirtless.

Running shirtless is a topic we see a lot in summer, and a couple awesome women in the Sub 30 women's sub-group decided to host a virtual event that encouraged the ladies in our group to celebrate freedom from the shirt on the 4th of July. Men don't think twice about whipping off their shirts when it's hot out; why should we?

When this event was first announced, I decided that if I kept waiting for "one day", I'd never really feel ready. So I decided to run shirtless before I felt ready (fake it 'til you make it, right?), and since that first run I've found it easier to make it a habit. I've felt lighter, cooler, and weirdly...more free.

Real bodies; real women MOVE.

It's been really amazing to see so many strong women with a multitude of athletic accomplishments under their belts shed their shirts and embrace their bodies. I honestly can't tell you how inspired and motivated it has made me. The strength and support of other women in this movement helped me stomp that naysaying voice into submission.

The thing that stops many of us from running shirtless is that we don't think we look good enough to  pull it off. Well, who cares if you don't look "good enough"? What standards are we even using to measure what good enough means?

I'm sick of being uncomfortable when I run because of some self-created fear that people might judge me. If they don't like it, they don't have to look! My body doesn't exist for the eyes of others; it doesn't exist for their pleasure. It's a strong body that has gotten me through dozens of 5ks and 10ks, 10 half marathons, and three marathons. It supported me through Ragnar. It allows me to get up and go to work and live my life.

Looking at the women who participated in this event, it drives home the point that insecurities are rarely about what we actually look like. I don't understand why any of these women are self-conscious because I think they all look great. As they posted their photos, every comment confirmed what I felt: "You look awesome!" "You look confident!" "You look strong!" The stories accompanying the photos were full of self-realization and empowerment. 

I remembered that the flaws we see in ourselves are rarely visible to others.

You wouldn't think running shirtless would be as freeing as it turned out to be...But it is. I've wasted a lot of time hoping to someday be "fit enough" to run shirtless, and now I know that when I say women of any fitness level deserve to wear whatever they want, it applies to me, too.

I talk a lot about body acceptance and appreciating your body for what it's capable of. I need to work harder to apply that thinking to myself. Why not? For all I know, maybe people see me running shirtless and think, "If only I had that confidence."

Somedays I still feel weird about running without a shirt. I know each summer, after winter running dictates I need a shirt due to weather, this will be a renewed battle. But I also know that this kind of confidence (even if I'm faking it sometimes) is contagious, because Elizabeth has followed suit and run shirtless with me a couple times now, and that makes the discomfort worth it...because I want all women to feel comfortable enough to run shirtless whenever they want! 

If my step forward helps others get there, then that's a good thing for everyone. And I couldn't have done it without the community of women who encouraged each other to rock our bodies. Thank you for joining in and inspiring each other, ladies! And a special thanks to the women who were willing to let me share their pictures today: Meaghan, Tory, Tina, Dianne, Cathy, Candace, Patricia, Meagan, Kim, Nancy, Tovah, Kirsten, Chelsea, Steph, Honore, and Kara!

Whether you feel ready or not, taking a step outside your comfort zone is how we grow...and how we grow stronger. I'm glad I've stopped waiting for "one day" and am learning to be comfortable in my skin sooner rather than later.

Do you run without a shirt on?

What's a risk you want to take but don't feel ready to?

When's the last time you left your comfort zone?

ABK

I'm Not Losing Weight

For nearly four weeks now, I've been logging all my food into MyFitnessPal. I used MFP for about two weeks a year or two ago when I needed to be a little more mindful, but soon stopped because I didn't like how obsessive I was getting.

This time is different. Even though MFP forces you to count calories, I've been using it as a glorified food journal and basically ignoring the calorie count. Am I eating mindlessly? Am I eating a handful of fun-sized chocolates when I could be eating grapes or peanut butter on carrots or an apple or whatever?

I'm choosing more veggies and fruits these days instead of candy, pastries, and crackers for snacks, and I'm making fresh lunches instead of eating canned soup every day. 

This exercise has done the trick, and I'd like to be able to move away from using the app and back to trusting my instincts, but I don't think I'm there yet.

I very rarely weigh myself, but I was curious to see if making smarter food choices was making a difference beyond my energy levels and stamina during workouts. My doctor weighed me at my yearly checkup in February and I weighed the same as I have since 2011. This week, I put the battery back in our scale - we never use it so we keep the battery out in case we need it for something else! - and stepped on first thing in the morning.

I weighed exactly the same as I did in early February.

Now, that alone doesn't seem that crazy, but consider this: I've been the exact same weight for five years. For awhile I was stable at one weight; then I began running and over a year or two I put on some weight (probably mostly muscle - I can tell because my thighs and butt are much curvier and stronger than they used to be), and since then I've been stable at this new weight.

I'm adding way more fresh vegetables to my dinners by sticking with what I know I'll eat - I could eat mountains of zucchini, so I've found a way to eat it almost daily instead of making something like spinach or peas, which I'll barely touch.

I'm fine with this weight and actually, being here is a relief because I know it means my body is consistent. I know I'm feeling better and I probably have more muscle now than I did even a couple months ago. But I just think it's funny and weird that my body has found equilibrium and is just so damn predictable.

I know that consistently making good choices - with some indulgences here and there - is going to allow me to keep getting stronger and feeling better, which will help me become a better athlete. That's what counts.

This has been my mantra over the last few weeks and I think it's working.

So while my new workout schedule and meal-journaling haven't altered the effect of gravity on my body, it's done something under the surface, and for once that's enough. I weigh the same, but I feel stronger, more energetic, and generally better! That's something to celebrate, and I think this acceptance is a milestone for me!

Weight and scales can be a touchy subject - do you weigh yourself? Why or why not?
Do you use a food journal or meal tracker?
What's your favorite vegetable?

ABK

Why Health Screenings Suck

This post is kind of serious and kind of sad, so I'm going to throw in funny stock photos to lighten the mood. 

 

When signing up for health insurance every year, our provider has an optional health screening. If you score certain points from the screening (good blood pressure, BMI, heart-rate, etc), you can save money on your policy.

Usually I really don't mind the screenings. As someone who exercises frequently and is fairly healthy, I don't really see it as being stressful or scary. I also think it's nice to receive a benefit for being healthy.

But this year I was pretty annoyed. The problem is so simple it's stupid. I looked at the scale when they weighed me. Usually I close my eyes or I get on the scale backwards. Most women who have dealt with any kind of weight issues or disordered eating understand where I'm coming from. But this year I was pressed for time and didn't stop to think, and when I stepped on the scale, I had one of those moments of utter misery. 

The internet is fully of HILARIOUS stock images of women yelling at scales. Is this normal?! Do real women do this?!

The scale shouldn't dictate how I feel. I've come a long way from letting my self-worth depend on the number that I see there. We have no scale in the house and I literally never know what I weigh. I "monitor" my weight by the fit of my clothes; the last time I checked my weight was a few years ago, and I've assumed I'm still the same weight because I'm so short that when I gain/lose weight, my clothes fit totally differently. So avoiding hard numbers works for me.

Before this scale debacle, I was perfectly happy with how I look; all it took was one look at the numbers to make me question my confidence. That's not okay.

This is all to say that I've had an idea of what I weigh, but haven't checked in a long time, and I've been perfectly happy with my body. But, all that changed when the nurse weighed me at the health screening; the scale said I weighed almost 10 pounds more than I have ever weighed in my life.

Apparently searching "sad vegetables" brings up pictures of veggies that need to be hugged.

I immediately went into that mode of thinking, "How can I possibly lose this weight?" Logically, because my clothes are fitting me the same and I look the same in the mirror, I had a pretty good idea that most of this weight is muscle mass from my recent training. However, the illogical side of my brain was telling me that I can't possibly look good at this new weight and that I must find a way to lose it.

I know that I no longer fit some of my old favorite jeans. I also know that that's because my thighs and my butt have gotten a lot bigger and more muscular since I started running. It's also totally normal for me to not fit into the clothes I wore when I was 19. I know all this; these are things I came to terms with years ago.

But somehow, even though I was fine with all of this before I was weighed, now it matters. And the scale is to blame for that. 

I, too, resort to gymnastics to zip jeans that clearly don't fit my body.

I'm frustrated because I thought I was past the point where weight mattered. Especially because I know that I'm strong, fit, and so much more than just a number on the scale. Especially after all this training and a successful 20 mile run!

Here's the really sad part (as if this wasn't sad enough): a colleague told me later that day that she was sure the scale was seven pounds off. That's exactly how off I thought it was, too. So all this obsession and worry is for nothing, because most likely the scale was just wrong.

I wish that I could just not care. I know the bottom line is that this has taken up too much of my thought process, and that's a problem. I guess I have some stuff to work out in my head that I didn't realize I was still dealing with.

Why can't I just be carefree like this yogurt-eating, staring-into-the-distance lady?!

I wish I had a better way to end this rant. Do you deal with scale-issues?

Any words of wisdom?

ABK

When I Had a Thigh Gap

Today, I overheard a group of my female students discussing diets and lamenting over the fact that they don't have a thigh gap. I thought this trend was on the way out, but apparently I'm just not frequenting the seedy parts of the internet these days.

I told them their discussion depressed me; they're too smart to care about something so trivial, especially because their bodies will be changing drastically in the next few years, and because at least one of these girls is a runner. I assured them that thigh gaps have more to do with bone structure anyway.

But this all got me thinking about those days when I was too-too thin and my thighs didn't touch.

When I had a thigh gap, I had...

Really low self-esteem. No number was low enough. I hated myself everyday.

Hair loss due to malnutrition.

Brittle nails because...well, see above.

Mood swings and a short temper. I was constantly hungry, which meant I was constantly angry and upset.

Memory and focus problems. Days went by in a fog most of the time.

Terrible skin. Drastic dieting led to dry, thin skin.

Trouble socializing. I was too focused on how I looked and whether I would have to eat in front of people to even bother making an effort.

A relapse into clinical depression. I think this one doesn't need much explaining.

My thighs touch these days. They are strong, muscular, and powerful. They push me through long runs, up hills, across finish lines...They make me feel confident. They make me feel like a woman. They make me feel proud of my body.

These thighs helped me PR my last half marathon, and I'm damn proud of them.

The thigh gap seems to be, to this generation, what the magical number on the scale was to me back then. But of course, when I hit that number, I never felt satisfied. If anything, the less I weighed, the more I hated myself, because I still didn't look how I wanted to look. (Body dysmorphia will do that to you.) Obtaining a thigh gap might seem like it will be the moment of victory to these girls, but I know - as do so many others who have been there - that it's just the lid off the first can of worms.

I will never have a thigh gap again, and I couldn't be happier about it.

Can you relate?
Share: why is life better when you're not obsessing over your body?
What would you say to young girls struggling with their bodies?

ABK

Body Acceptance

I recently read an article that attempted - awkwardly and unsuccessfully - to promote "body acceptance". After some reflection, I think maybe the article itself wasn't the problem; my outlook is.

You see, there's a fine line between accepting your body and ignoring it. Or maybe I should say "neglecting" it. After a drastic rise in eating disorders in the 90s and early 2000s, partly (and superficially) blamed on the "heroin chic" look of models, we've finally come to a point when young women are encouraged to accept their bodies and treat them well.

This is the kind of body acceptance I can happily get behind.

And of course I'm delighted and supportive of this. Like many women - hell, like many human beings - eating disorders have touched my life in many ways. I don't write this with flippancy, and I don't take the issue lightly either.

But I am uncomfortable with the fact that suddenly any encouragement of healthy lifestyles seems to fall into one end of the spectrum or the other. We see women and men forcing themselves to exercise beyond what is necessary or deemed healthy; we also see them turning their back on any kind of self-improvement and hiding behind "body acceptance".

Should we accept our bodies? That shouldn't even be a question. Our bodies are fascinating machines; they work in ways that, to me, sometimes seem almost magical. It's mind-blowing to know the details of how our systems work to moderate our breathing, our temperature, our blood-flow, our energy...How can anyone look at the trillions of cells working in harmony to create a human body not find it miraculous?

Nature and its inner workings never fail to leave me awe-struck.

Our bodies are capable of amazing things. Running has taught me that. History has taught me that. We are physically able to do so much, and we are only here living our lives because we have a body to live in. Our bodies deserve to be treated well, taken care of, and respected. This means our bodies deserve exercise.

So why do I feel so uncomfortable with "body acceptance"? It's probably because these days that seems to be a euphemism for avoiding exercise. More and more I'm seeing this weird battle about what makes a woman a "real" woman. It started as a way to empower those that didn't fit the ideal, which is something like 95% of us. But it's become an "us vs. them" mentality. To hear the rhetoric, either you're thin, fit, and smug about it, or you're overweight, sassy, and proud.

Exactly. Whatever floats your boat, ladies and gentlemen.

Fat-shaming and prejudice is despicable, whether a person is fat due to simple inactivity and overeating or a glandular disorder. I believe in loving our bodies as they are; I also believe in self-improvement.

I believe in pushing yourself to see what you can really be. I believe in testing the paradigms we surround ourselves with in order to test and realign our world-view and our idea of "normal".

Why is this a desirable mindset?

There has to be a balance between accepting our bodies, loving our bodies, and improving our bodies.

This is the same reason I feel uncomfortable when people talk about exercise as a form of bodily punishment, as if their body is a disappointment or a wayward animal that needs to be brought to heel.

Exercise has taught me to love and accept my body, not because it has changed my body, but because it has changed my mind.

I'm afraid I've written this whole thing and have no answers for myself. How do we balance body acceptance and improvement? How do we seek to "fix" ourselves while still loving ourselves? Why does "body acceptance" have to mean neglecting making healthy exercise and food choices?

I don't think it should.

And because I believe in staying positive, and I need to remind myself that not everyone out there has such a skewed outlook on health and what bodies "should" look like, here are links to two excellent articles about bodies and weight.

The Different Body Types of Olympic Athletes

Female Bodies: A Weighty Issue

What does "body acceptance" mean to you?
What are your thoughts on finding balance?

ABK