uh-huh, well, I don't like you either

I don’t like the crease between my armpit and boobs. It’s a problem area. I have others, trust me, and it seems of late I’ve been focusing on the parts of my body I don’t like.

My stomach, my back, my thighs, my butt. I wish I could run for miles or pound away the fat in a gym. I wish my mental desire to be lithe and lean were actually true. That I could find a damn bathing suit that did more uplifting then letting some of my more favorite assets sag. Is it too much to ask that the girls look happy while swimming? I think not.

I’m a little frustrated right now, and the frustration is bordering on melancholy.

It’s not that I’m not happy with myself. I am. I’ve lost 50 pounds. I haven’t drank a regular soda in almost a year, and my coffee’s been sugarless for about the same amount of time. I pack my lunches to work almost every day and plan my dinners too.

But I don’t exercise enough and I fail sometimes – two points of frustration for me.

I try to exercise, but my internal organs profusely protest and make me think I should not try running again if I want my kidneys, heart and liver to be happy with me. I can’t actually pinpoint that my liver hates me when I run, but it hurts in the general liver area. I don’t think my ovaries like it either.

Enter points of frustration No. 3, and that’s this ghostly fight I wage against Lyme Disease. Most day, I’m not waging anything – I’m nodding my head and “yes, sir’ing”, “no, ma’am’ing” to it.

That’s what happens when I exercise. My muscles, joints, organs scream, “hell, no!” and I obediently cease and answer, “yes, sir.”

And then when I’m lamenting my one or two pound weight fluctuation, I’m told to exercise more and I can’t. That’s depressing so I’m tempted to eat a cookie, which only adds to the weight problem, and then the need for exercise and then the realization I can’t, and then more depression, another cookie, and so on.

I’m breaking the cycle, though, and in the last year I’ve made incredible progress. Yes, I still eat a cookie occasionally, but I bypass the fast food cheeseburger that’s bound to cure all my ails, and despite the fact that chicken nuggets might hold a magical healing potion, I decline and eat my rice and chicken.

A friend from work went shopping with me last night I preparation for our upcoming trip to a beach. I knew it was a risk going in my current frame of mind, but she helped me. She helped me buy a cute, fun skirt, which I love dearly.

And today she brought a dress to work that didn’t fit her, but fit me beautifully. We snuck into the photo studio in the office, I tried it on and she gushed.

So there, butt, boob/armpit area, thighs, stomach and back – you are beautiful.