A few weeks ago I went to dinner with my cousins, two girls basically my age, who I grew up with almost as sisters. The older we’ve gotten and the more we’ve changed the less I see of them, and apparently the less well I relate to them.
My husband, who has only known my cousins as adults over the past 5 years, intensely dislikes spending time with them.
The girls wanted to take me out to dinner a few weeks ago, to make up for missing my bachelorette party last fall. It was the first time the three of us had intentionally hung out together, without our family, in years.
While we were sitting in the restaurant waiting for our table to be ready, my older cousin (90lbs soaking wet, blonde, ex-Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader) asked my younger cousin (adorable strawberry blonde nurse) what she was doing to work out, because she is looking fantastic right now. My younger cousin talked all about how she’s gotten into Crossfit, and the culture of it, etc. etc. You all know about my break-up with Crossfit, while I did like the workouts I didn’t especially like the cult nature of it.
At one point in the conversation, my older cousin turned to me and said, “Do you even work out?” She immediately awkwardly laughed and said, “Oh, that was so rude of me!” But it could hardly make up for her question. As an avid exerciser for as long as I can remember, part of my identity is made up of me being an athletic, active person. To have someone question, based on how I look, whether or not I even do anything to move my fat ass around (especially when I don’t think I look that bad) hurt. A lot.
Part of my conviction in training for a second full marathon is that I want to prove to myself that I am an athlete. I can do it again. And I can lose weight so that I look good doing it.
That dinner was a pretty low point for me, but since then I’ve tried to stay positive about my eating and fitness habits.
I’ll keep you guys posted with how things are going. How do you deal with negativity when it comes from your own family members?