Why Now? (Part Three)

(Link to Parts One and Two.)

A year ago, I lost about 8 or maybe 10 pounds over the course of a few months. I wasn't dieting or exercising; it happened due to a combination of factors, including: abstaining from all sweets and special treats during Lent 2009, breastfeeding a toddler, having a horrible cold (and thus no appetite) for ages and - how's this for honesty?! - pooping a lot (explanation: my bowels like to empty themselves out when I'm nervous, and at the time I was nervous twice a week because I was teaching a class). (Now I'm nervous about posting this personal info on my bodily functions. Ooops, gotta go to the bathroom. Ha ha, just kidding).

OKAAAAY, so back to the point: I gained this weight back over the course of the year and especially, it seemed, at Christmastime. It's essentially okay and unsurprising that I gained it back - okay because I am on the high end of normal but not particularly overweight, and unsurprising because the factors that caused me to lose that weight in the first place were temporary. However, I couldn't help but notice that most of those pounds came back during vacations. I know from some comments that my mom has made that this has been my parents' weight gain pattern over the past decades: at home, they maintain a certain weight, but on vacation, they gain (and don't easily lose it once they're back home). This got me thinking about the patterns that I have learned from my family about body image, food, weight and physical activity.

Vacations for my family have always been at my grandparents' place. There is a lot of food at my grandparents' place - from amazing butter-smothered vegetables from their enormous garden to succulent sweets that my grandmother prepares with immense love. I love eating what they offer to me, and I absolutely think vacations are a great time to feast together. But this past Christmas, I was disturbed to notice how out-of-control I sometimes felt in relation to all of that food. I felt compelled to eat and I often ignored what my body was telling me in terms of fullness or hunger.

A few months later, there was a death in our family. This was during Lent, when I was avoiding all sweets and junk food. On the evening that I learned of the death, I decided to deal with the first onslaughts of grief by: going for a walk (healthy), writing in my journal (healthy), and consuming an enormous order of onion rings (not so healthy). I was kindof shocked that I decided that I couldn't go through that emotional experience without fried food. All Lenten resolutions went flying out the window from that point on.

All of this left me feeling all introspective about my relationship with food and with my body. I thought about times in my life when I've felt more in-tune with my physical self and when my body has pleasantly surprised me with its capabilities (during pregnancy and childbirth, and when I do yoga). When the idea of running surfaced, I took it seriously. I wondered if maybe my life-long aversion to running had to do with unnecessarily limiting myself. Why should I feel a little flicker of panic as my body warms up, my breath quickens and my heart starts beating faster in order to accomodate the intensity of exercise? Could I move past that panic and actually improve my level of fitness? What kind of self-talk/ inherited narrative has led me to never even question the idea that I hate running? Why not give it a try?

I'm not sure if there is a Part Four to this question of Why Now. Part Three is enough food-for-thought for the moment, eh? I'd love to hear other C25K-ers answer to "Why Now?" too!