Feeling Fat vs. Feeling Soft

Since having lost a significant amount of weight, there are days when I feel trim, there are days when I feel "fat"--which is really more about what's in my head and some residue of low self-esteem--and then there are days like today, when I feel "soft" of belly and tone.

I walk a lot, and I carry a lot of stuff.  For being a forty year-old man I am pretty fit, but I could be moreso.  I'm wearing a pair of pants that feels a bit tight for allegedly being size 34.  I have a size 32 pair of jeans that frequently feels loose on me, and when I wear my belt with it, I attach the fastener to the penultimate hole.  On this pair of pants, even the last hole makes it rather loose.  Wearing this enigmatic pair, I can't help but feel a little soft, and it reminds me of the days when I was wearing size 48's and my belly hung over them. 

I look in the mirror at my body these days, and I see an guy who's pretty average-looking for my age.  Or was average-looking at one time--I think the average now is someone who has maybe 35 pounds on me.  I might be wrong about that, but I think I'm at least average for New York City, which is a relief.  I walked past a couple of hot gay men who looked to be in their mid-30s--maybe one of them was my age!  I know a couple of vain men in their 40s who look fairly well-preserved.  I know of others who chase after chicken.  (Whatever...)

I could be doing more for my body, I know.  I saw a factoid today on the elevator that it's a good idea when flying from one place to another, to workout when you land.  It helps to relieve the jet lag.  I bet that it would help someone like me too, who goes on extended periods of jet-lag when I switch my schedule around.  Like now, with my work and jury duties, I've had to shift my schedule back an hour.  I'm not grumbling about it at all!  I like the extra hour of sunlight, actually.  It's nice to see 1:30 in the afternoon once in a blue moon.  (Literally, actually, as the blue moon is this Saturday night!)  But I'm so tired all the time because of this seemingly small shift.  As far as time goes, I'm princess and that hour is the pea in my bed.  So for the next few days I'll be draggy, and I don't like it.

So.  The sleepiness, the tightish pants, the lack of exercise--they all combine to render my mental state as registering of physical softness as opposed to overweight.  The belly and the chest are desirous of some vigorous exercise, I can tell.  Something more vigorous than my walk down to Centre Street.  Guess I'll have to suck up my complaining and carry that Trek down to the street and take it out for a spin soon.  I owe it to my body and to my connection to Gaia to ride along the western perimeter of Manhattan.  Connect with nature on my two-wheeler and give my lungs and belly and legs some aerobic respiration.