I’ve hit that inevitable moment in a woman’s life when she realizes she no longer has the body she used to. Sure, I knew that I had some soft bits creeping in around the middle, but I rarely weigh myself and had no idea what had happened. That is, I had no idea until yesterday when Sweetie dragged my to our new gym for a workout.
The past couple of years have been challenging personally, as I have struggled through infertility and a miscarriage, plus a pretty serious back injury. I used to be reasonably fit and healthly, and at the beginning of trying to get pregnant I maintained that lifestyle. But as the months wore on and the disappointments increased, so did my weight and reluctance to exercise. Then last fall I nearly herniated two discs in my lower back and was told not to exercise at all. Add some hormone shots and more failed fertility tricks to that, and I slowly started swelling up. I could eat all the ice cream I wanted if I took the prenatal vitamins, right?! Knitting counts as exercise, doesn’t it?!
On our recent camping and hiking excursion, I reconnected with the physical strength within me. Turns out, I have the ability to power myself up a hill and back, and that is empowering beyond measure. I decided to try to get my body and soul back in shape and feeling strong again, even if it was going to be painful! So I have joined a swanky new gym with a steam room and 3 different types of yoga classes in an attempt to reclaim my body and invigorate my spirit.
Speaking of asses, I also recently started wearing a thong. I’m not talking about the footwear here, I’m talking about that intimate t-strap of fabric some people refer to as underwear. You see, I like to wear skirts in the summer but don’t like having a panty line. Somewhere I heard that the only solutions to that problem are to wear a body slimming device (aka Spanx) or a thong. Since it’s hotter than a sauna outside, I have opted for the latter.
Yesterday, while out at the grocery store of all places, I became extremely preoccupied with the thing. I felt like it was all hanging out back there and that I was making an arse of myself. So I asked Sweetie to walk behind me and let me know if she could tell I was wearing a thong. Fortunately, she said “No” and we moved on. But I couldn’t help feeling like everyone in the store knew I was wearing one! I can’t be the only one who has thong insecurity, can I?
When it came time to dress for my yoga class that evening, there was no way I was going to take any chances. I’ve heard other people complain about being behind that woman in yoga class with the inappropriate undergarments hanging out for all to see, and I didn’t want to be that gal. So I put on my black yoga pants, got in front of a full length mirror and did this sort of contortionist bend/twist (not a yoga pose that I know of) so I could see myself in the mirror. You know, so I could see with my own eyes whether or not my g-string was on public display. It was. My solution: wee shorts over the pants.