Hanging in the balance

I woke up unreasonably and unbelievably grumpy this morning. So I figured I'd go work some negative energy out in the gym.

Surprised, I know. I am not a gym person. Generally I don't see myself as self-conscious, but aside from my sheer hatred of exercise in all non-fun forms, I also hate exercising and looking red-faced and sweaty in front of other people. I think it stems from my deep-rooted perfectionism; if I can't do something excellently, or at least better than some people, I don't want people to see it.

I am happy for people who like running, but to me - running is a form of torture that people inflict upon themselves. I've never been in shape enough to ever enjoy running - even when I have been in decent shape (rare, yes, but it has happened). Never gotten that "runner's high," and I don't understand that people continue to do it. For fun. I hate the idea of exercising for the sake of exercising. I wouldn't mind sports, if I were any good at them. So because of my limited abilities, I only really like individual "sports" - swimming, biking (outside so I'm not bored to death), gymnastics (maybe I'd like dancing if I knew how? Again, if I was good at it and looked somewhat graceful. Or it was a type of dancing where I don't need to look graceful... maybe I could belly dance? I definitely have hips and a belly). Wow tangent. Aside from that, not really anything.

So I went and biked on a stationary. I brought thermodynamics reading and my mp3 player to keep me occupied in case the tv was monopolized (I get bored easily without mental stimulation, and there has to be an overload of mental stimulation to keep me exercising when I don't have to). But lo and behold! I was the only person in the gym!! In immediate rapture, I ran around trying all the machines. I don't mind machines. When someone came in I quickly settled myself on a bike and worked it for half an hour. Got really sweaty, but I felt better about how much I've been eating. Now if I can do that a couple of times a week, maybe I'll start feeling more motivated or less crappy.

So although you've already been shocked beyond belief, by far my biggest shock was stepping on the scale. It was one of those "real" scales, like the balances we learned to use in grade 8... move the blocks over until the arm is suspended, balancing your weight.

I rarely weigh myself. Not only do I not have a scale at home, but I don't have one here at school. Occasionally (and I mean rarely... probably every 3 or 4 months) I sneak into R's parents' bathroom and check myself on their scale. So I checked myself at the end of Christmas holidays, just to make sure I hadn't gained 20 pounds... I hadn't... so I figured I was good.

But! This scale (and R swears it's the most reliable type, and that his at home is not accurate) weighed me in at seventeen pounds lighter than I thought I was, after Christmas. There's no way I lost 17 pounds; if anything I've gained. A significant amount. Unless I didn't really learn how to use a balance... check back soon, because I may take R with me to make sure I did it properly. In that case, there will be a very despondent post.

It doesn't make a huge difference - I still feel as heavy as I did before, all relative depending on the time of month, and my love handles are not shrinking - but now when another girlfriend drops her weight into the conversation, I don't have to think, "Wow, where am I hiding an extra 20 pounds over this girl?!?!" Unreal.

I reminded R that this also means that HE'S about 17 pounds lighter than he thought he was... and he decided to verbally maintain that he is the weight he measured at home. Since he didn't use this scale anyway, so technically he's ignorant. Also, this gives us a difference of over 30 pounds, which I am incredibly happy about. I don't care how big I am as long as I still feel smaller than he is... and he's not huge. I didn't exactly pick a guy that far exceeded the "heavier than me" expectation.

So both of us are happy. Greaaaat stuff!