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Friday, 3 January 2003

resolutions and resentment



I never make New Year's resolutions, simply because I hate doing stuff just 'cos everyone else is doing it. This is why I also find Beanie Babies so vile; they are specifically manufactured to convince people that they must purchase these "limited edition" floppy animals, and not only that, you are compelled to collect the whole frickin set. I only bought those two Canadian beanie bears in Montreal because they were Christmas pressies for two adorable little girls. I swear. But I digress.



I never make New Year's resolutions, but this year Paul and I decided to get back into healthy eating/exercise habits after the holidays. Makes sense - eat like a crazed pregnant woman for a few weeks, feel extremely happy but slightly nauseous, start to get grossed out by the sight of chocolate Santas, then start eating things that won't make you feel like poo. I hate to admit it, but I actually do feel a lot better when I'm eating properly and into a regular exercise routine. I don't need as much sleep, I have a lot more energy, and my grocery bills are quite a bit lower. The weekly "treats" are much more enjoyable (these are usually in the form of a night out once a week eating something sloppy like a curry and drinking a large amount of wine) and I don't feel hungover afterwards. So starting Monday, it's back to eating well and moving around on a regular basis.



I was reading an interesting article here on one of my favourite fitness Web sites (do take a look at the rest of her site here - it's one of the best resources for fitness I've come across). I think, if I were to be totally honest, that I am 50% motivated to get fit because it'll make me feel good and 50% motivated to do it because of how I'll appear to others. We are aware that we are being watched (and I don't mean in a stalking kind of way), and there are very few of us who can deny that we are affected by how we are judged by others. Similarly, we do the judging ourselves. There are many times that a scantily clad super buff chick will appear on my TV screen, usually eliciting some sort of "ooo!" type noise from the male watching television with me. My immediate response is to say something like, "She's got fat ankles. Look at them. I bet she gets them injected with collagen. And that hairdo - what did she do, hang her head out the bus window on the way to the shoot for this commercial?" I freely admit that all of these snide remarks are due to the fact that I am incredibly jealous of these super buff chicks and it makes me feel a lot better if I spot something wrong with them (spotting fake boobies is always another favourite of mine - "Look at them! It looks like she's had two giant Smarties sewn in there!"). On the other hand, I will look at friends in an entirely different manner. When I met up with Heather at one point last summer, I was so impressed with her flat tummy and how great she looked in a camisole and jeans. Instead of being jealous, I was inspired to stick to the gym routine and look like that myself one day. Maybe it's because I know how hard she works to look like that and how far she's come. Maybe it's because I know her and she's a really nice person. Either way, it would be a lot healthier if I could regard the super buff chicks on my television in the same respect. Except for the ones with the fake boobies. That's just cheating.

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