The Eye of the Beholder

I ran 10k today. Last time I did that was over 3 years ago, so it's kind of a big deal. 

Am I bragging? Hell yeah. Two months ago I wrote this on my other blog. I was overweight. I was eating any old thing I wanted. I was unhappy with how I looked and felt. Every day I started off with good intentions and every night I craved and caved and loathed myself for my lack of willpower. 

But I had a job coming up that I knew would be highly physical, so one day after I kind of hit bottom in terms of self-loathing, I got up just enough willpower to stop eating bread, pasta and desserts. I went on a few runs with my boyfriend, who likes to jog 2 to 3k to clear his head after working inside all day. 

A friend of mine was doing this and losing pounds, so I started doing it too. (Although I must say that my Bright Lines are a bit fuzzy 'round the edges at times, and I eat a few things that aren't approved in this plan.) I joined their Facebook page and I appreciate the support we all give each other. 

I moved to the prairies for 6 weeks and started bike-commuting every day. And running. And doing this very physical outdoor show. We built our set every night, did the show, took down the set again. I revelled in the heat of a Saskatchewan summer; kept biking, kept running. Kept eating well. 

I feel great. Dammit, I look great. I am so proud of myself. I can't wait to see where I'm at in another couple of months. 

And yet...

I shot a music video recently; or rather, I was in a music video for one of my songs. When I watch the rough cut I see my big eyes, my smile, my strong, sexy legs... And I see my flaws, over and over. Thin lips, short grey hair that never rippled or flowed down my back the way I wanted it to and when I cut it off this summer it felt like freedom but it also felt a little bit like failure. I see the weight I haven't yet lost, may never lose, because I am built to be short and curvy and I will not, will not starve myself, work out for hours, deny myself every last treat or cocktail just to attain that magical number on the scale. 

I know that my female friends will tell me how beautiful I am- and I will believe them- but when my male friends tell me I look good, I will feel more validated, because I am a hetero woman and I want to look good in men's eyes. Tell me you haven't felt that way; go on, tell me. 

I know that there are as many types of "beauty" as there are people on this planet, and yet I will always feel too short, too brunette, too plump, even though I know that even models are eaten up with self-loathing. 

I read, nightly, about rape, about abuse, about the ridiculous ways that female athletes at the olympics are treated in the media. I know people who can't run, can't exercise because of health issues, or abuse, or depression. Are their bodies any less lovely than mine because they don't have my good genes, or good fortune? 

I want to say that my decision to eat better and exercise more is an experiment in willpower- and it is- but it is also firmly rooted in a desire to look good, and not just for myself.

I can't tie this post up tidily at the end here; I have a few disjointed things to say and that's it:

When I work out, when I eat better, when I do yoga, I feel fierce and strong and self-confident. I am proud of what I can make my body do. As a musician and a writer, I see it as a strong example of what happens when you cultivate a daily practice. (Funnily enough, I have always been far more successful when it comes to exercising regularly than when it comes to playing music or writing on the daily.) I will not apologize for either my good genes or my good luck, but I will try to honour them by treating my body with love. In all its stages and levels of health.

I want to tell everyone- and especially anyone who's just feeling as if it's all totally beyond them- that it IS possible. You can make small changes in what you choose to eat. And then make bigger changes. If you are able to, you should do something physical. Because there are so many people who would kill to be able to do what you take for granted. (But if you can only handle one thing, change what you eat.) 

If you are a big, healthy, confident woman who revels in her sexy curves, then I salute you. I want to believe that I am as beautiful as you. And I know how hard you've worked to love yourself. If you're thin, tall, blond model-material who hates herself, I wish you peace and self-acceptance. 

For me, I just want more years of good health, more days of smart choices, more moments of happiness and confidence. I want to carve out some time for myself, even when things get hectic again this Fall, as they surely will. And I want that for you too, whoever and however and wherever you are.