Reality Check

I suppose we acquire most of our feelings about our bodies too early, and in ways too complicated, to make them easy to account for.
Charis Wilson

The sun has begun to spread its warm rays across the land more and more, the daylight is lasting longer. And so it is time for part-time naturists like me to prepare for the worst, face the music and check out what’s been hiding under those sweaters, sweatshirts and loose-fitting pants that I’ve been wearing these past winter months. It’s time to take a deep breath and really look at myself, naked, in the mirror to assess the damage done by a seemingly continuous holiday assembly line of good food, festive drinks and sinful desserts.

It’s awfully easy to lose sight of one’s shape when it’s been under wraps for months. I’ve been putting this reality check off for some time. After three years of whipping myself into shape in a major fashion and denying myself all and anything that hinted at containing extra fat and empty calories, I broke down. I indulged in food groups I’d almost forgotten existed. It was wonderful but I knew the time would come to pay the price for this backslide. I am a relatively short, middle-aged, mid menopausal woman. There’s nowhere for any extra pounds to go but around my middle; the laws of gravity don’t help one bit either. Yes, I know, the human form is beautiful and not one of us should be self-conscious or ashamed of how we look. I, however, am supremely self-image/body conscious. I can’t help it; this is how I am. If I’m going to enjoy participating in any kind of naturist activity, I have to be in the best shape I can be.

I took a deep breath, I looked...time for action all right...time for setting aside time each day for an exercise program with a bit of structure and sticking with it. Time for free weights, we call them "Tom". Makes them seem a bit more friendly this way. I’ve employed many different kinds of exercise techniques over the years with success but this time I’m trying the most basic, accessible means of exercise there is; namely, walking. I live in a very walker-friendly town and so far I’m three weeks into an almost daily 30 minute plus walk.

I used to obsess with numbers on a scale not so long ago. These days I rarely check out my weight. How my clothes fit (or don’t), how I feel and what my reflection tells me is all I need to know. A number on a scale doesn’t mean much. It’s more how that number is packaged. The bad news is I’m guessing I need to shed about eight to ten pounds. It just wouldn’t do to have a rotund SpringsNymph prancing around the place. The good news is this is definitely an attainable goal and should be easily achieved by the time the really warm weather arrives. My husband and I are planning a vacation of a naturist bent later this year and what better incentive than this?