Oh well yes - what woman doesn't do that occasionally, whatever size she may be? But in the next split second I thought "But so what.". I know that at certain times I feel more fat/bloated/ugh than at others, all for the same poundage.
And I'm content.
Which means more to me than worrying about excess curves (is there such a thing?). I don't want to get on the (metaphorical) treadmill of forever striving to be however many inches / kg lighter. Interestingly, I converted from knowing my weight in lbs/stone to kg when I started going to the gym many years ago. Now I hate the gym but am forever converted to kg; but measurements still have to be in feet/inches. And in the States isn't it lbs and metres/centimetres? how fickle we humans are.
So, getting back to the excess curves, it's not that I want to get any bigger, definitely not. Out of the females in my family I am still 'the slim one' but there is always the reminder it could all go wrong. But I'm a healthy weight and as long as I'm maintaining that, or if I lose a bit Just Because, that's fine. At least I know I'm getting exercise and I eat healthily - the calories aren't coming from alchohol and kebabs.
And I'm content.
If a physiotherapist ever tells me to go the gym, I will say No. I used to enjoy it and know how satisfying the effects can be, but now I have developed a loathing for it. All sweat and no pleasure (ignoring the exercise endorphins). I'd rather get my exercise and strength from gardening, walking or cycling, or sailing once I get back into that, the view is so much better. Not that I have anything against people who choose to go to the gym - each to their own, live and let live - and for some it is a choice of that or pounding city streets. Not everyone has the countryside or garden that I am fortunate enough to enjoy on the doorstep.
So I ignored the fat-feeling, made a cup of tea and came out into the garden to write this and decide whether to mow the lawn this evening or wait until Thursday.
And I'm content.
