Gym Dandy

The gym on campus reopened last night. I was at work at 7:30 and felt no guilt, whatsoever, leaving at 4:15 so I could get two hours in. While I was changing my trainer came in and said, "you're taking my class today -- let's go."

I looked at her like she was on crack, until she said, "it's just you and Erica. I'll go easy on you."

The class was fun -- though even with simple steps and moves, I managed to look like a clutz. But I can laugh at myself. I've never been accused of being graceful. What I didn't like, however, was the full-wall mirror in front of me. There was no escaping myself. And beyond watching me mess up steps now and then, I really hated seeing myself.

For some reason, when I'm in work clothes, when I'm "polished," I can see the weight loss. I can see the difference in me. In a t-shirt and sweat pants, I looked like a cow. And I was confronted with that for 50 minutes.

I'm not sure how to gain a good self-image, good body image. Maybe its something that needs to be nurtured all through life, maybe its something that is just inherent. And without making light of serious illnesses or pretending to be able to get into the mind of an anorexic or bulemic -- I can kind of understand how they can look in the mirror and see something that is not reality, see something different from the rest of the world.

*sigh....it's a never-ending battle, and one that I'm not giving up on. I'm just not sure how to win it.