I went to my friend’s wedding this weekend. There were three of us that grew up together. We now live in different parts of the country so we had to do the photo-op thing and get pictures of us posing together. I was feeling fairly good about myself until I looked at those pictures. They are both shorter than me and a size 4 at their absolute fattest days ever. I’m thrilled when I’m a 12 and was wearing big heels. I look like a giant towering over them and twice as wide. I guess it isn’t suprising that I have body image issues if I was growing up with them. They are lucky I like them so I didn’t have to get violent.
Later that night was I reading Men’s Health and they had pages on one-legged squats. I uttered the infamous words “that doesn’t look so hard.” We put a dining room chair in the middle of the living and I practiced. You stand on the chair with one leg and lower your other foot to the ground and then stand up. I couldn’t control it and kept falling off the chair. So I changed to doing a lunge that was pictured. You put the top of your foot on the chair. Then you do a lunge with your back foot still up on the chair. I was saying it wasn’t so hard and my very helpful family was saying, “Get your thigh parallel. Lower, lower, lower. Ok.” I did four on each leg. No big deal, right? That was Saturday. It is Monday and don’t think I’ve gotten the feeling back in my legs yet. I walked on the treadmill last night on various inclines and that made me even sorer. If I can ever use my legs again I think I should keep doing those lunges. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
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Ooops, that was supposed to be “signing up for any belly dance classes” not “belly dance moves”. *shaking head* I suppose I ought to grab myself a mug of tea, while I’m at it, so I make a little more sense.
LOL DH popped in a Shakira CD (the one with “the hips don’t lie” on it) while were cleaning last night, and here I am stirring the left-over clam chowder & doing some of the more minute belly dance belly moves. Just for grins (cringes, more like) I decided to check out how it looks in the mirror in the bathroom as I was getting ready for my shower, and it reminded me of nothing more than the line in “Twas the night before Christmas” about Santa’s belly jiggling like a bowl full of jelly. Yep….. I could give Santa a run for his money if not for that beard thing. I’m certainly NOT going to be signing up for any belly dance moves, any time soon. OR doing my exercise tape where others can see me. It’s fun, and it really is a work-out, but it’s NOT pretty. Not when _I’m_ the one doing it!!!!! 😉
(Please pardon any typos, I’ve got a wrist brace on to support an old break, and it keeps getting in the way of my typing.)