Skip to main content

Rubenesque at 50


As I was slathering on lotion after my shower the other day, I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. And the thought that leapt to mind was, "I'm Rubenesque". The next thought was, "I am not happy with that analogy!"

Of course the latter thought was more strongly worded and might have included an expletive or two. Or three or four.

In a society that champions thin, Rubenesque is certainly not a prized state of being and it is taking all kinds of courage to admit this in this public forum, but I feel it's something I must do to get my Rubunesque butt into a more desired shape. I have let my MS gradually immobilize me to the point where fear of falling or tripping or looking klutzy are the glue that's keeping me in place. And the glue is made all the stronger by the snow and ice awaiting me as soon as leave the house. Nothing good can happen by hibernating in fear - in fact quite the opposite. So, I've committed to daily exercise - for now it's in the comfort and safety of my own home with my Wii Fit. And by the time the snow and ice have melted and given way to green grass, I will be out and about - I won't be running any marathons but I will be out with my Igor Shuffle proud to be shaping my Rubenesque form into something more modern. And healthy.

In addition to letting fear keep me from venturing out much, it has kept this big personality from the people she loves and needs. I am not much of a wallflower - haven't been since junior high. I am like one of those "People who need people" Barbra Streisand sang about it Funny Girl. I need my peeps!

And since, I've now broadcast this to the world I have a lot of accountability partners. I will exercise daily and will be out-and-about more often - despite my fear of falling. So accountability partners, help me stick to it!



Comments

  1. You are one of the most beaitiful people I have ever known. True dat. Nothing has ever changed that.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...