today, i am happy with my body.
i'm up .4 pounds from yesterday, but i don't care. my knees are still too fat to wear my riding boots, but that's okay. i'm still "overweight" by a good 15 pounds, but that's fine by me.
tonight we're going right from work to an alumni weekend event at hub's alma mater. it's a mural tour of the city, followed by a tour of a local brewery and a reception at a local concert venue. i wanted to look nice so... i reached into my closet and grabbed a pretty mauve-ish top and a charcoal gray sweater. and put them on. and knew i looked nice.
have i mentioned that i'm wearing jeans i bought in 2003? when i was at my lowest weight? because i am. in 2003 i wanted to lose 20 more pounds (to hit 135). now, i'd be pretty thrilled to lose 19 more (to hit 140). but i'm CONTENT. this is a good size for me. i look good, i feel good, i rocked the shit out of my spinning class last night. this is good.
yes, of course, the backwings, the cottage cheesey thighs, the goddamn knee fat. but ya know? i'm probably going to wear mostly jeans and 3/4 sleeve tops anyway. i'm fine.
yesterday, independent of one another, two of my friends told me they were proud of me for how far i'd come. two people understand that it's a fight, every day, and not just a case of not drinking soda and parking farther away from the mall.
i'm grateful to both of them, for seeing it.
and i'm proud of me, too.