Small Slice

Oy, this morning came early.

So!  Up and at 'em!  I'm at the exact same weight as last Monday - 174.  I have to upload my photo.  This is my bloating week, though, so I'm going to make a note of my daily weight, and keep moving.

This week's exercise challenge is five hours of exercise again - however, I want you to branch out an try some new activities.  Borrow a new exercise DVD from the library or a friend.  Walk a new path.  Jump rope, or play hopscotch with your kids.  Try to incorporate several high-energy bursts throughout your day to keep your heart rate pumping.  Even five minutes of crazy activity will keep your calorie burning furnace working.   

This is weigh-in day.  Please send me your scale photos/weight change and minutes exercised.  I wanted to talk about those dreaded numbers on the scale.  How much self-worth do you invest in the numbers on the scale?  How about in your measurements?  Does a thick waist or bulky thighs make you a failure?  Who do you compare yourself to, physically? 

I'm 4 feet, 11 inches tall.  I *should* weigh around 110 pounds, according to the government.  And I did, at one point, my freshman year in high school.   I  haven't grown since then, but my figure has rounded, changed over three pregnancies, and when I look at my scrawny little 110 pound self, I remember that that little girl though she was fat.

And then I do my best Jabba the Hutt laugh. 

Seriously, though - those numbers on the scale mean jack to me, other than to serve as a way to measure my progress.  I can't give them any importance - 174 pounds doesn't tell you anything about me.  174 pounds is not who I am. 

I've received lots of photos from you gals, and lots of apologies and expressions of unhappiness over your appearance.  When I look at your photos, I see beautiful women.  Yet I know what you see, too, because I see it when I look at my own photos.  My outside doesn't match my inside.

And yet, my outside is who I appear to be - who I am to the rest of the world.  So, fine.  I really should have a shirt made up that proclaims "I'm a skinny chick on the inside!" 

Truthfully, though, my identity doesn't have anything to do with my size.  I am a sum of so many parts.  As are all of you.  Don't let the number on the scale define you. 

My negative self-talk has been really acute this week, as I've tried to become aware of it.  I realize how often I disparage myself for comedic relief, or to excuse my choices.  To make myself smaller or less important, to myself and to others.   

I hide myself behind the 'fat girl' label, because it is easier than admitting that I'm a thin woman who has too much weight on her frame.  Fat girls can't help it.  They have big bones, genetic predispositions.  They've tried every diet, and they've failed because the diets don't work for fat girls. 

So, hi!  I'm Jenny Lauck, and I'm a thin woman who has too much weight on my frame.  I'm not owning the fat girl label anymore.  Just like my weight, it doesn't describe anything but my shell.  It doesn't tell me who I am - nor does it acknowledge that I have any progress to make, or a thin figure somewhere under all this bulk.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I'm going to introduce you to some successful dieters who have lost weight by taking charge and taking no prisoners.  I hope that their stories will inspire you, and give you a boost as you make your own progress towards your inner thin-woman.