so, (indulge my navel-gazing please); following on from my earlier post about reaching bottom – let me back up here (snicker) and say publicly;

i know i’m not obese.

i’m not even close to obese.  i’m sure there are many women who would love to have my shape, weight, whatever (you know, the grass is always greener…). i could probably gain 20lbs and still be in the “acceptable” weight range for my height – not even counting the substantial amount of leg muscle i’ve gained over the past few months from all my running. 

Publicity pic June 08 -Ivan Naude

however, i am heavier than i’ve ever been (or at least close) and my clothes don’t fit the way i’d like them to. (though, admittedly the wardrobe stand-by on set yesterday commented on how much weight i’m losing and how good my wardrobe was looking!) and no, it’s not all in my head! 

the problem, which i know some women would kill for, is the fact that though i maintain my overall shape, which has always been hour-glass, there’s just MORE of it. so my boobs get huge, the badonk-adonk, goes badonk-adonk-donk and i start feeling like i’m carrying a second person around with me. 

anyway, i can honestly say i was nowhere near the front, or the back, of the line when they were handing out beauty (ok, so maybe i was a little closer to the front when it  came to T&A), but i got given enough to appreciate my place in line and i learnt over the years how to  fake it. so don’t think me ungrateful. 

Pic by Mike Broemer circa '97/98

it’s just that at 44, i’m looking back and realizing that that body i was complaining about 10 years ago, was F@#$ING hot and i want it back (or even something just a little closer to it)! so much so that i’m okay with the fact that everything hurts today after my marathon gym session the other night. a few more sessions and the pain should fade into distant memory – till the next time.