Do These Weights Make My Muscles Look Big? PART I

Houston, we have a problem.

On March 9, 1959, a woman was "born" who epitomized all the attributes young ladies were supposed to have. She was well-endowed (to say the least) and had the demure sideways gaze of the popular 1950's-era fashion model. She had access to the best cars (what girl doesn't love her Corvette and Hummer?) and had serious real estate including homes in Malibu and New York. She maintained a stable relationship with the same man over the course of 40 years but has since "found herself" and made the decision to part ways with him and remain friends. At 5'9'', she was much taller than average with measurements coming in at 36 inches (chest), 18 inches (waist) and 33 inches (hips) at a mind-blowing 110 lbs. She was what every little girl aspired to be. Mysteriously wealthy. Popular. Skinny. Plastic?

Um, not so much. (Gotta love those shoes, though!)


At 5'8'', if I weighed 110 lbs., you would be force-feeding me True Mass and loaves of French bread so that you didn't have to stare at my clavicals poking out of my fleece hoodie. Kudos to the Synthetic Siren herself but seriously, honey. Only you can pull off that look.

As women, we learn through Barbie and that annoying Skipper chick we played with as little girls that the only things that need be big on us are our smiles and our hearts. In all reality, the tissue visible OVER the heart also known as BOOBS. Yep. I said it. Everything else can be spare and thin.

No thanks.

The next time you want to shoot for the skinny look, ask your hubby or boyfriend if he likes cuddling up to the body of a 12 year-old boy. If he says yes, more power to you. You and he can have a happy existence listening to Cher and shopping at Pottery Barn together. FABULOUS!

As for me...


My doctor says that I need to get more IRON.


Like, pumping iron. Not in pill form, sorry.


I am trying to get certain body parts...oh no! Here it comes...don't read further, Barbie!

BIGGER.

I want BIGGER lats. I want BIGGER shoulders. I want BIGGER portions of sweet potatoes and oatmeal 'cause this 1/2 cup crap every three hours ain't cutting it.

The way I see it at the moment, BIGGER = BETTER.

Of course, not everything grows bigger at the same rate. Maybe things are growing that need to stay the same size or might need to get smaller. (Hey, Brandi's Ass. This means YOU.)
This is messing with the deep-seated sense of delicate femininity I was taught to have about my body. The Figure Competitor is at conflict with the Barbie inside me.

The fortunate thing is, that Figure Competitor in me is a feisty, HUNGRY harpy that can easily snap 110 lbs. of plastic.

So...

I have been dieting like a champ for the last two weeks and the numbers are looking great. Weight down? Check! Body fat slowly decreasing? Check! Black slacks fitter looser this morning before work?

NEGATIVE.



Damn.

You mean to tell me that I avoided eating ten Cadbury Eggs for this anticlimax?

Really?

Again, this is Barbie talking. In her head, eating bland, flavorless foods should mean that your clothes are falling off you by now. The diet of chicken breast sprinkled with chicken breast and dipped in chicken breast leads to smaller sizes in the dressing room. Those 10 asparagus spears that I look forward to every night at 8pm (<---this is a joke, by the way) will have me shopping at places like Hollister (where size SMALL means you must be four years old).

Shut up, Barbie.

I will persist on because I feel the change and I know it is coming. I will grow where I want to grow if I train correctly. I will lose where I want to lose if I eat my chicken breast like a good girl.

I will put away these silly, ingrained notions because I will drown out MY Barbie's voice when I pick up another weight.

Time to go get some iron.