It's been nearly a year since I've had a good night's sleep. The best I've been able to muster is about six hours, which does feel good, but it's not as great as nine. This time last year I was easing into 'really pregnant' territory, having trouble with my left leg being numb or painful on the outside thanks to Kat sitting on a nerve, and no longer walking from the bus stop to work every morning. My body was rapidly changing in every way possible but having that be my second pregnancy, it was easier for me to just go with it.
After Kat was born and I lost some pretty dramatic weight, I struggled with how my body looked; I didn't look like ME anymore. Eight months in and I'm ok finally. A very supportive hubby and a new bra worked wonders! So did running. I LOVE to run. I'll be going out again shortly, actually, into the sunshine and birdsong that accompanies my nifty new shoes crunching in the gravel by the side of the road.
Running, however, has brought out a small demon who occasionally sits on my shoulder and whispers nasty, fat-hating shit in my ear. I started to run because I needed some time outside just for me and my thoughts, but the other day from nowhere I thought "You'd better keep running or you'll get fat again." The hell? Two things; I don't see myself as 'thin' by any stretch of the word, but no longer do I fit into the fat catagory. I can buy just about anything 'off the rack' at a regular store, even pretty bras! Technically my BMI is in the overweight catagory, but we all know BMI is bullshit. Basically, I'm more average sized than ever, a very small, small-fat or inbetweenie person.
Second, I don't care if I 'get fat' again. My body is not a static thing; it's always going to be changing and weight IS going to be part of that. I accept that. So little demon, fly away home. You're not welcome here. You're just a by-product of the fucked up world we live in that tries to push unrealistic expectations on people to try and get them to waste their time and energy conforming instead of Getting Shit Done. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.