i hate the A train. let it be known: i HATE the A train.
(and i was in a terrible mood today).
uniquely enough the terrible mood had nothing to do with the A train. i say uniquely because usually the two are connected. {and yes, i just placed uniquely where a strangely normally lives--what can i say, i'm trying it out}).
i haven't always hated the A train.
though, to be fair, i should have seen this coming.
when i moved to new york (at the wee age of eighteen) i dated a guy who lived just off the A.
turns out i didn't really like the guy. really not after he gave me a key to his apartment (did i mention i was eighteen?). call me old-fashioned but i think the giving of the key is kind of a thing. a big thing.
i promptly broke up with him in a diner on the upper west side. i remember walking out. the weather was suddenly cooler, lovely. oh, pathetic fallacy! (yes, i just said pathetic fallacy. if you must know i adore that term and have been trying to get it onto this blogspot-lover-of-mine for ages).
and then of course there was that time on the A when at the ripe old age of nineteen the guy i was falling deeply and desperately in love with told me his girlfriend (i know) was moving in with him. or moving to new york for him. bad either way.
heartbreaking, actually.
this all was followed by a man who couldn't be bothered to get on the A train to pay me a visit. actually, that's not quite true. but that's what it felt like.
(god i hope none of the guys ever stumbles across this).
no, really, God that's a prayer i'm offering up to you right now.
the point is this: i hate the A train.
i hate that in the early mornings it more a shuffle-step-dance than train ride. i hate that it sits at 168th for far too long and crawls past 135th. i find it offensive that it calls itself express when the local gets from point a to point b in the same amount of time, all the while making far.more.frequent.stop.s. (don't believe me? try. i've converted more than my fair share of non-believers).
i've been thinking lately that, given my druthers, i might never ride the A again.
you see, for me, the long subway ride is symbol of my struggling life. taking a little too long, to get not so far.
but alas, the A is the train closest to home.
and so i remind myself that this phase of my life shall pass. and soon enough.
this struggle (to be replaced by another, i'm sure), this subway line, this apartment, in this corner of manhattan, this job, and that job, and that guy, and this frustration--it all passes.
all of it--including my bad mood or the feeling that i'm not good enough or thin enough or strong enough.
it is a seamless quilt moving flawlessly across this loom of a life. the colors and mistakes and unexpected strands provide depth, dimension, even a little...dare i say...flare.
and you know how i know? because my bad mood passed tonight.
it passed just as Sting sat down in front of me in the movie theatre. yes, that Sting. let it be known that i believe him to be one of the sexiest men alive. (all that yoga or something). though, when i told my dad he kinda scoffed and said, so what? all that means is he sat in front of you in a theatre.
but i saw it for what it was: a sign. that if i keep showing up, day after day, then given enough time, good things will come.
you see, Sting is my sign. his sighting--my little gift from the universe.
after all, wouldn't mind running into him on the A train.
oh God, please don't let this pop up in Sting's google alerts.
getting better
stopping for a thought
it would have made more sense had it snuck up on me. had it been a slow, gradual kind of thing--approaching from a distance with blinking lights and low whistles.
but alas.
i was in the middle of the restaurant, navigating between tables and people and moving trays on the busiest night of the week when it happened. i stopped. i just stopped, planted my feet and puased.
and there amidst the swarming and moving, time reached elastically around me and i thought, my god, what am i doing?
it was such a simple thought. so clear and emotionless. it was as factual as a thought can be. a fraught-less though, if you will.
and there, paused in the middle of the restaurant in my own sphere of space and time, i thought enough. enough of this.
i have set up my life in such a way as to pursue that which i love. and yet the pursuit has stalled. for fear.
fear. oh, fear.
fear and i are well acquainted. bosom buddies, you might say.
it's just... well, the thing is... fear no longer seems a strong enough deterrent.
because that which i love may not always be clear. and it may not always be easy. but it certainly isn't sashaying to tables in a short black dress hoping that the men don't look too long in the wrong direction.
and so the thought simply was.
(almost as if it had been there all along, just waiting for me to catch up.)
FED: small victories. and shifting priorities!
i took the bus back from new jersey in the late afternoon on satuday. i wanted to take a physique class before the delicious quiet and day of rest that is sunday.
i don't remember much about the class. except that, it was crowded and i stood next to some girl who must have been a dancer. i know this because when we were working on our seats (butts and surrounding territory) and we have to shoot our leg out from the side of our body and mine starting shaking and didn't want to get anywhere close to the necessary position she just popped her's right out there. i mean...it was like...shoop. and i was like...oh, shit.
but what strikes me most about that class is that afterwards i devoured my post-class-new-tradition green apple.
i don't like apples. they're not my thing. never have been. but the studio has them in a glass bowl and i know that they're good for me and (let's be honest) wanting to get my money's worth, i always grab one. i usually suffer through about half of it. suffer, no? but survive. i eat as much as i can handle. and then i move one.
but on saturday evening i was thirsty. really thirsty. and i'd just read some article about eating more water (yes, eating) and knowing those little green suckers were chock-a-block full of the stuff i reached for one, sunk my teeth in, and oh the delicious juice-filled-thing that it was! i enjoyed it in the lobby, waiting for the elevator, during the ride down to the street.
one one of the eight floors between physique and the lobby another girl hopped on--she too with green apple in hand. i recognized her from class. i wasn't (and still am not) sure why she was on another floor and my confusion led way to conversation. and she asked me how long i'd been taking classes and where i come from to get there. and then of course, the question that everyone asks, had i seen results.
and i understand the question. i do. i get it.
i politely side-stepped it with, you know. yes, i'm sure. but i'm trying very hard not to focus on that.
what i really wanted to say was, i'm enjoying this apple! loving it, in fact! i'm halfway to the core, my usual stopping-spot, and i'm gonna keep going. this is the success--this is the result--this green apple, right here, and my LOVE for it!
there's always a moment in class when the instructor asks us to reconnect with the reason we came today. asks us to imagine how we want our seat to look in our jeans--how long and lean we want our arms to be and on and on and such and such. and i'm inevitably the girl in the corner, pulsing my squats--legs shaking away--thinking: bone density, bone density. i'm building bone density! or my heart, my heart. i'm strengthening my heart--reducing my risk for heart disease, obesity, diabetes and on and on and such and such.
don't get me wrong. i want those long, lean limbs. and yes, i want the seat that looks dang good in my blue jeans. but if that's what i think about in that moment that class gets really hard, well, i'd stop. because those reasons alone are just not good enough. they just don't do it for me. but, my health? well, that's another story all together. hell, i'd pulse those squats to kingdom-come to keep my heart pulsin' on its own.
and so i may not be able to measure how how much bone density i've gained, but i can see how my love for a green apple has shifted. and holy moly, that's something.
the first step
when i first met with the head of the eating and weight disorders program at mount sinai i knew immediately he was the doctor for me. he got it. he understood.
after two years of asking for help in overcoming an eating disorder only to be told i didn't have one, i had finally met someone with the information that would give me my life back. he talked science to me. and for a girl who'd never before liked science, it was suddenly the language of love--the salve for my soul.
obviously i had some pretty big issues at play and not everyone needs such a specialized doctor. but the things tom has imparted to me are basic and universal. they are bits of information not often talked about--things that everyone can benefit from.
from that very first day tom made it clear that, in terms of eating, we were gonna work very hard to eliminate any form of dieting or restrictions. that would in time eliminate binges. and eventually i would have the body of giselle bunchen. (oh wait, scratch that last one {figured i'd attempt to bring a little humor to the table, even if it's poorly-constructed}).
and so that is exactly what we did. i stopped counting points. i stopped guesstimating calories. i re-introduced all foods into my diet.
and there have been days, weeks where i think, oh if i limit just for this little bit of time--if i only consume this many calories--it'll be a jump-start for me. no harm done.
those times of limit have never, ever led to any good.
i used to say that i'd know i was better when i got to the body i would've had had i never developed an eating disorder. and tom would chuckle and nod and say, there's no way for you to know what that body would be. that's an impossibility. and he was right, of course he was right, as always.
but i do feel i'm finally living in a body that is my own. a body sans all the extra pounds that binge upon binge piled on. and without dieting, without counting calories, without any of that it has taken me just about two-and-a-half years to get here.
yeah, i know, that's quite a bit of time. a lot of time, actually. well...but not really. not if you're thinking in terms of a whole life. better two-and-a-half-years than twenty of yo-yo dieting and unhappiness.
it takes time. there is no quick fix. health is an investment of time and money and hard work.
be patient. in the end, that extra time pays off in dividends.
a new tab.
when i started this wee of a blog i was fearless.
if i wanted to post something, i'd post it. bam. done.
and maybe it's because i was pretty clueless for the most part.
but it was a blissful oblivion.
now i worry what others will think: is it interesting enough? will they like it? does it fit with the overall thrust of the blog (i know, i know, what overall thrust?). what judgement will this-a-way come? what fuel am i providing for ex-boyfriends the world over?
a few weeks ago my friend victoria suggested i share here what i'm doing to get healthy. some of my little tricks and suggestions.
and i was. hesitant.
because i'm certainly not an authority.
and certainly other people have found more success than i. their paths have been smoother, shorter, done with more grace.
but then i was standing around with a few girls just the other week when one declared she absolutely must lose weight and so today would be the day she'd begin weight watchers again. and i must've cringed and said that was a terrible idea (or something else totally inappropriate for the situation {i don't know this person very well}) and realizing my mistake i quickly closed my mouth and moved on to other things. but she asked what i meant, said she wanted to lose weight the healthful way. and then a third girl overhearing the conversation jumped in saying that, weight watchers is healthy and it works. and i pulled a move of undeniable stealth extracting myself by nodding and excusing myself to the bathroom or some other such refuge.
because what i could have said? what i wanted to say was that just because something works doesn't mean it's healthy. and if it really worked would our nation be fighting this obesity epidemic? and after only three months of a successful weight-watchers stint (nineteen pounds lost) i developed a raging case of bulimia that nearly destroyed me. yup, three months of weight watchers and it's taken me more than five years to recover.
this diet thing. it is so ingrained in our culture. and no one has the information to combat it.
i stopped writing--for the most part--about my nasty, little eating disorder (ned) because i didn't want it to define me. i didn't want to write about the descent when i was doing everything i could to climb out of the crater in which i'd landed. and so i took the "ned" tab down from my sidebar.
and i'm not going to. to write about the descent, that is.
but i am going to give vic's suggestion a whirl. i'm going to write about climbing out of that crater. about getting better. and stronger. about the bits and pieces that have helped me. the elimination of fake sugar from my diet (and why). and the healthy, real foods that keep me moving. about how i eat what i want, when i want it: cupcakes and ice cream included.
i am not perfect. and neither is my body. i have stretch marks. all over. and thighs that rub together. but i love my body. yes, you heard me correctly. completely and compassionately, i love my body. i will never again try to lose weight. i just won't do it. i will try to eat well, to nourish my body and strengthen my heart. and i imagine those things will peel off the pounds i no longer want or need.
but it's so not about the pounds. ya know?
for the next week i'm gonna have this little blogspot-lover focus on health, so that when it's all said and done we'll have the start of a new tab for my sidebar. a tab to replace the one that "ned" once claimed.
(still working on names though...seems like all the good ones like "living well" or some such have been claimed.
suggestions?)