Get in Shape, GirlFebruary 4, 2014 at 6:04 PM | Posted in Body Schmoddy | 4 Comments
Tags: angsterbation, food, motivation, Weight
I have been thinking about how unmotivated I am to work out even though I really want to lose weight before my tornado tour trip. I’d like to be a bit more comfortable while cooped up in a van with other people. I am motivated in thought but not practice. It is so difficult to connect the two.
I think about this almost daily. This morning is no different. I do my best thinking in the shower and I was thinking how I could get in shape in time.
That’s when I noticed a jingle had popped into my head. The neurons holding onto this memory must have been so excited to finally remind me of something from my childhood.
This is me at Christmas in 1986 I think, at my grandparents house.
BI was insanely happy to get this gift. It was called Get In Shape, Girl. I was excited because it was something from a commercial I had seen on TV.
(Seriously, what is with the girl at the end of the ads bending over?!)
It has finally hit me how long I have struggled with body image. Yes, the aerobics craze was at its height in the 80’s and yes, kids like to do what their parents are doing. But the message of ‘show the world what you can do’ is pretty damn sickening. I also enjoy that there are no overweight children in the commercial.
To this day that is why I dislike going to gyms* I have a feeling I’m being looked down upon by the religiously athletic and born thin people. There is rarely someone anyone near my size
*This does not include Curves. This was the only place I felt mostly welcome. I say mostly because really, how accepted is a pink-haired, facially-pierced girl really going to be?
Edit 2/9/14: It has been several days since I started this post and that jingle will not get out of my head. I only have the ‘get in shape, girl’ part rolling over and over in my skull. My brain seems to be commanding and judging me with this horrible mantra.
It reminds me of the horrible judging poster up on fourth floor at work tell me to take the stairs. The only time I am really up on the fourth floor I have a book cart with me. I try to rationalize that of course I can’t take the cart down the stairs, but that poster makes me feel bad about myself anyway.
Inanimate objects should not be able to shame me.
Now, off I go to eat burritos and malted milk balls as a reward for actually using wii fit today! (And maybe off to play some Rebecca Black to get this jingle out of my head!)