When I got back from my recent trip to South Africa I took a photo for the Marines. I actually took a couple of bikinis and a Marine Corps flag along on my vacation with the hope of being able to get a cool shot with a giraffe or a colorful African sunset in the background. That didn’t work since I could never find a private time or place to take the photograph without making of a spectacle of myself.
The word spectacle makes me laugh because it reminds me of what my younger sister would say now and then when we were little. She’d put her hands on her hips and say “Lynnie, you’re making a speckle of yourself!” I don’t know WHAT she meant since I was always perfectly well-behaved, but I digress. Although I do enjoy photography of all kinds I’m shy when it comes to taking photos of myself and prefer not to have an audience. There are times I grin and bear it when I think it’s for a good cause like when I insisted on marching out onto a well populated beach in San Diego with a different Marine Corps flag, and when I climbed a hill overlooking a resort in Utah with my American flag, oh yeah, and when I put on my American flag bikini in Mexico and ran up the knoll, past security, to the warning flag overlooking the ocean and a busy beach. OK…sometimes I do make a speckle of myself but an appropriate time in Africa never came around. About a week ago I decided it was a good time to try to get the photo I wanted.
Now take a good look at this photo. I do believe I’m looking a bit curvier than usual. As you know I don’t rely on the scale to tell me what to focus on in my workouts. The mirror does an excellent job of accurately pointing me in the right direction as does the camera. My “holding steady” workouts over the past couple of months and my 2.5 weeks off combined with big eating in Africa (did I tell you I ate an entire pizza for lunch three days in a row in Cape Town? No? Left that part out I guess). The point is that although I came back weighing just about the same, my body composition is clearly different than it was a couple of months ago. This is the juncture in the conversation when I used to say “I’m fat” which I learned caused my friends (who aren’t lifters) to become extremely agitated and yell out things like “You’re crazy!” or “You’re obsessed!” (which could possibly be true but has nothing to do with my very accurate assessment of my body’s condition). What I mean by fat is that although I’m clear on the fact that I don’t look like the Michelin Man, my fat to muscle ratio is not where I like to keep it. This doesn’t put me in a bad mood or make me regret eating large quantities of cheesy, salty, delicious, delicious…did I say DELICIOUS pizza. I just know it’s time to go to work. It’s easy when you note the trajectory early on and change course.
These last few days have been just fine. I’ve made adjustments (oatmeal and egg whites for breakfast instead of ham and cheese omelets for instance) and I’m putting some serious effort into the workouts, particularly my lifting (I’m keeping the cardio to 30 minutes per lifting session). Pretty soon those dangerous curves will be gone and then I’ll be rocking the pretty, muscular curves that I love so much!