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Oct. 21st, 2015 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeI am entirely uninterested in Back to the Future day except to note its existence, and isn't that cool, because childhood. I'm waiting for 2019 when we can have Blade Runner day. Because reasons and also that was my big thing. See also: icon.
(Icon is actually from Split Second, which is ALSO a fun movie, but never mind.)
So, I had a moment today (which led to a conversation which led to not being freaked out as I was, but still) where I read Scalzi's thing about how he weighs 186 and wants to lose 20 of that. And then I thought about my situation, where my average weight these days is 172 and a decimal, I'm 5'1" we'll say because I've been stretching more and slouching less, and I'm a size 12/10 on average. I'm guessing even though I haven't tried, because my size 12 Sonoma jeans keep falling the hell down around my hips even if I put them on after the dryer, in two hours, falling down around my hips. So if I'm a size 12/10 ish (US, jeans) at 5'1" and 172 pounds, if I go down to 155 pounds, that's losing 17 pounds, I'll probably be a size 10/8? 8/6? And 155 pounds.
I keep seeing these articles that are all "oh I'm 5'6" and lost X pounds and now I'm 140 pounds and I look great" and I think about how I'd probably look around 'great' or whatever, at least in society's eyes, at 5'1" and fifteen pounds over that. And I can't imagine it. Or comprehend it. It's not that I can't comprehend losing the weight, because this time last year or so I was averaging maybe 8 pounds heavier. It's that I can't comprehend how the fuck I can be at a weight that heavy, and be that toned. I understand the mechanism of how muscle is more dense than fat and therefore takes up less space for the same weight, but how is it even fucking possible that when I'm a socially acceptable size (I am, for the record, forestalling at least five paragraphs on the subject of socially acceptable sizes) I will weigh thirty freaking pounds over what every damn thing I see in print, even the ones that are supposedly better about policing women's body image, says I should weigh? How is that even fucking possible?
Iiii don't get it. I don't. I am baffled. And for the most part I'm okay with all of this, my ego can handle it. I can look at the scale and go "yay numbers trending appropriately, I'm not experiencing carb crash, I can play capoeira for 8 minutes without falling over, it's all good" and most days that's enough. And then there are some days I read something and go not into a self-loathing tailspin, but more into a WHAT HOW WHY tailspin. HOW. HOW DO BODIES WORK.
I bet if you took me to a less awesome doctor than mine and didn't show him my stats and asked him how much weight I had to lose, I bet he'd either say less than I do, or predict that I should way 20-30 pounds less than my goal weight. I don't fucking understand biology at the fuck all. My goal weight is 155 pounds. I am 5'1". This is normally the part where people either condescendingly or honestly talk about health and beauty at every size and don't realize that if my current trend keeps up this will put me at the ... I don't know what fashion model sizes are anymore, so maybe I will be plus sized at an 8. Because fuck you fashion industry.
On the other hand when I look at this picture representation of how much space 5 pounds of fat and muscle take up respectively, that part makes sense and then the part where I have actual muscles is completely boggling to me. But in a good way.
(So, for shits and giggles I looked up how much protein I should be eating, and apparently it's anywhere between .36 grams per pound, which, fair, that puts me about at 60-62 grams, to 1g per pound of bodyweight. Which in case you missed the numbers in the ranting is 172 grams of protein I don't even want to think about how much Greek Yogurt or cottage cheese or chicken or steak I'd have to eat for that dear god. I'll stick with the 60-70 at most grams of protein, thank you very much. Fucking hell.)
Plus then I start thinking, okay, if I really am that muscly, how hard do I punch. If I punch someone really hard will they feel it? I'm used to being a tiny person, I will own, the idea of being able to punch someone and make them feel it makes me giggle wickedly. Not that I would.I'd more likely kick instead. But I'll think about it. And giggle.
... and now I'm going to push myself even harder in capoeira today aren't I. If my lungs hold out. Fucking lungs.
Related to all of that flail, my GOD I need to get my exercise discipline back. I have lost it. Completely. After DragonCon. I now do very little exercise except for capoeira twice a week (which, granted, is strenuous exercise but still) and I need to get back into taking that half hour to an hour every morning to work out. I have no fucking clue how to do this, either. Except, maybe, clear the floor every night before I go to bed because with the boy's schedule completely disrupted I don't have the upstairs anymore, he gets more sleep than I do. And then go to bed earlier because it's come winter and that time of year again. I should just do this. We'll see if I can manage it over the coming week?
I have no Wednesday reads these days because my stress has pretty much reduced my brain to endless binges of various TV. So, media consumed? Season One and a chunk of Two of The Blacklist, which continues to be a fun procedural the most fun part of which is Spader being Spader. I can't really recommend it unless you like procedurals and Spader, but if you do, this is so the thing. Nikita is something I've recently been working down, it's one of those Chick Power Fighting Punching Speaking Many Languages Doing Arcane Shit On Computers spy things that appeals to me on a very id not a very have to think about it hard level. I'm enjoying it. Khlyen is in it. I kind of started watching Lost Girl again and where you'd think it'd also be one of those Chick Power Fighting Punching appeal things, it really isn't. There's just enough pretty and snark to keep me watching a few eps each week, but... eh. Ummmm. I finished Dark Matter. That was a thing that happened. That's about all I can say for that. I'm almost done with Daredevil, which I really love, that might have to be a post all on its own. STICK. STICK. Come here you cantankerous son of a bitch. I think that might be it. Rob Stewart, Khylen in Killjoys, is in fucking half of it, too. He showed up in Lost Girl shortly before I started Nikita, after I rewatched Dark Matter (which had him in the pilot for those of you who don't know) and so at this point I just expect Khylen to turn up around every corner. It's creepy. And funny. Like a morbid drinking game.
And a cat update! After staying hid under the file cabinet for several hours yesterday, Little Bit has yet to go back into hiding. Mostly she's been meatloaf'd and sleeping on her bed, or wandering around trying to get out of quarantine or just bunting and rubbing up against us demanding pets. She's still friendly. I can pick her up and touch my nose to hers, probably, I can definitely pick her up, and she just lays there or squirms into a more comfortable position and lays there. She is definitely a friendly, adoptable kitty if we end up not keeping her. Which at this point for me depends on a) the boy and b) whether or not we can convince the other cats to accept her, I think. And. Aaaaand there was a thing. Oh. We haven't gotten around to checking if she's been chipped yet. That was a thing I thought of that I don't know if I mentioned in public, it occurred to me that she might be a very long lost cat mistaken for a feral, and if I could find a chip and the family, that might be a happy if somewhat bittersweet ending. I don't expect to, but you never know.
And that, I believe, is all the news that's fit to print. Now I get to see if I can do writings (which I also need to catch up on as hopefully our situation stabilizies), prep for the show coming up at day job, and edits, and catch up on online classes. Whoof.
(Icon is actually from Split Second, which is ALSO a fun movie, but never mind.)
So, I had a moment today (which led to a conversation which led to not being freaked out as I was, but still) where I read Scalzi's thing about how he weighs 186 and wants to lose 20 of that. And then I thought about my situation, where my average weight these days is 172 and a decimal, I'm 5'1" we'll say because I've been stretching more and slouching less, and I'm a size 12/10 on average. I'm guessing even though I haven't tried, because my size 12 Sonoma jeans keep falling the hell down around my hips even if I put them on after the dryer, in two hours, falling down around my hips. So if I'm a size 12/10 ish (US, jeans) at 5'1" and 172 pounds, if I go down to 155 pounds, that's losing 17 pounds, I'll probably be a size 10/8? 8/6? And 155 pounds.
I keep seeing these articles that are all "oh I'm 5'6" and lost X pounds and now I'm 140 pounds and I look great" and I think about how I'd probably look around 'great' or whatever, at least in society's eyes, at 5'1" and fifteen pounds over that. And I can't imagine it. Or comprehend it. It's not that I can't comprehend losing the weight, because this time last year or so I was averaging maybe 8 pounds heavier. It's that I can't comprehend how the fuck I can be at a weight that heavy, and be that toned. I understand the mechanism of how muscle is more dense than fat and therefore takes up less space for the same weight, but how is it even fucking possible that when I'm a socially acceptable size (I am, for the record, forestalling at least five paragraphs on the subject of socially acceptable sizes) I will weigh thirty freaking pounds over what every damn thing I see in print, even the ones that are supposedly better about policing women's body image, says I should weigh? How is that even fucking possible?
Iiii don't get it. I don't. I am baffled. And for the most part I'm okay with all of this, my ego can handle it. I can look at the scale and go "yay numbers trending appropriately, I'm not experiencing carb crash, I can play capoeira for 8 minutes without falling over, it's all good" and most days that's enough. And then there are some days I read something and go not into a self-loathing tailspin, but more into a WHAT HOW WHY tailspin. HOW. HOW DO BODIES WORK.
I bet if you took me to a less awesome doctor than mine and didn't show him my stats and asked him how much weight I had to lose, I bet he'd either say less than I do, or predict that I should way 20-30 pounds less than my goal weight. I don't fucking understand biology at the fuck all. My goal weight is 155 pounds. I am 5'1". This is normally the part where people either condescendingly or honestly talk about health and beauty at every size and don't realize that if my current trend keeps up this will put me at the ... I don't know what fashion model sizes are anymore, so maybe I will be plus sized at an 8. Because fuck you fashion industry.
On the other hand when I look at this picture representation of how much space 5 pounds of fat and muscle take up respectively, that part makes sense and then the part where I have actual muscles is completely boggling to me. But in a good way.
(So, for shits and giggles I looked up how much protein I should be eating, and apparently it's anywhere between .36 grams per pound, which, fair, that puts me about at 60-62 grams, to 1g per pound of bodyweight. Which in case you missed the numbers in the ranting is 172 grams of protein I don't even want to think about how much Greek Yogurt or cottage cheese or chicken or steak I'd have to eat for that dear god. I'll stick with the 60-70 at most grams of protein, thank you very much. Fucking hell.)
Plus then I start thinking, okay, if I really am that muscly, how hard do I punch. If I punch someone really hard will they feel it? I'm used to being a tiny person, I will own, the idea of being able to punch someone and make them feel it makes me giggle wickedly. Not that I would.
... and now I'm going to push myself even harder in capoeira today aren't I. If my lungs hold out. Fucking lungs.
Related to all of that flail, my GOD I need to get my exercise discipline back. I have lost it. Completely. After DragonCon. I now do very little exercise except for capoeira twice a week (which, granted, is strenuous exercise but still) and I need to get back into taking that half hour to an hour every morning to work out. I have no fucking clue how to do this, either. Except, maybe, clear the floor every night before I go to bed because with the boy's schedule completely disrupted I don't have the upstairs anymore, he gets more sleep than I do. And then go to bed earlier because it's come winter and that time of year again. I should just do this. We'll see if I can manage it over the coming week?
I have no Wednesday reads these days because my stress has pretty much reduced my brain to endless binges of various TV. So, media consumed? Season One and a chunk of Two of The Blacklist, which continues to be a fun procedural the most fun part of which is Spader being Spader. I can't really recommend it unless you like procedurals and Spader, but if you do, this is so the thing. Nikita is something I've recently been working down, it's one of those Chick Power Fighting Punching Speaking Many Languages Doing Arcane Shit On Computers spy things that appeals to me on a very id not a very have to think about it hard level. I'm enjoying it. Khlyen is in it. I kind of started watching Lost Girl again and where you'd think it'd also be one of those Chick Power Fighting Punching appeal things, it really isn't. There's just enough pretty and snark to keep me watching a few eps each week, but... eh. Ummmm. I finished Dark Matter. That was a thing that happened. That's about all I can say for that. I'm almost done with Daredevil, which I really love, that might have to be a post all on its own. STICK. STICK. Come here you cantankerous son of a bitch. I think that might be it. Rob Stewart, Khylen in Killjoys, is in fucking half of it, too. He showed up in Lost Girl shortly before I started Nikita, after I rewatched Dark Matter (which had him in the pilot for those of you who don't know) and so at this point I just expect Khylen to turn up around every corner. It's creepy. And funny. Like a morbid drinking game.
And a cat update! After staying hid under the file cabinet for several hours yesterday, Little Bit has yet to go back into hiding. Mostly she's been meatloaf'd and sleeping on her bed, or wandering around trying to get out of quarantine or just bunting and rubbing up against us demanding pets. She's still friendly. I can pick her up and touch my nose to hers, probably, I can definitely pick her up, and she just lays there or squirms into a more comfortable position and lays there. She is definitely a friendly, adoptable kitty if we end up not keeping her. Which at this point for me depends on a) the boy and b) whether or not we can convince the other cats to accept her, I think. And. Aaaaand there was a thing. Oh. We haven't gotten around to checking if she's been chipped yet. That was a thing I thought of that I don't know if I mentioned in public, it occurred to me that she might be a very long lost cat mistaken for a feral, and if I could find a chip and the family, that might be a happy if somewhat bittersweet ending. I don't expect to, but you never know.
And that, I believe, is all the news that's fit to print. Now I get to see if I can do writings (which I also need to catch up on as hopefully our situation stabilizies), prep for the show coming up at day job, and edits, and catch up on online classes. Whoof.