Elsewhere in Internetland, I entered into a conversation about fat loss. When someone said that, second of course to cardio+strength, cardio is the best way to lose fat. I argued that point. (And still maintain that strength training is the best way to lose fat.)
But that's not what I'm upset about right now. I can debate that stuff all day long. My mistake was using a personal experience as evidence for my argument. Big mistake. Because what happens then? Yes, it's apparently an open invitation to critique my personal training priorities.
Seriously, if I want help, I'll ask. I've done it before. I have resources, I use them, and then I make informed decisions. If I need help, I'll post a question on one of the forums I frequent.
Maybe I'm ridiculously petty or defensive, and maybe I walked right into it, but it bothers me when someone offers unsolicited advice. Somehow, it's awfully insulting. I try to avoid doing it myself (or, at the very least, apologize when I can't stop myself), and I don't think it's too much to ask that people don't pass judgement on my decisions unless I ask.
It's even worse when someone claims that my priorities are "ridiculous". Yes, this person said that word. He's in another country, so I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt that he doesn't understand the connotations, but the word still stings. Hey, let me post something about how I'm eating twelve donuts a day and wondering why I'm not losing weight, and then go ahead and call me ridiculous. I'll join in. But while my methods are working, why question them?
The discussion was never even supposed to be about me.
Yes, these are the issues that I battle.
I'm still pondering my visceral reaction during a conversation with my mother. (Note: I try to never let my mother know I'm losing weight. Yes, this is being dealt with in therapy.) She sent me a magazine with a note about some articles that have to do with weight loss. The note said something like, "Read it or throw it out, I love you anyway." The "anyway" gets me. "Either way" would have been so much better. But that's my mom.
But wait, it gets better. When she brought it up in a recent phone call, and I tried to change the subject, she made some reference to how losing weight is difficult. I slipped and said, "Well, I'm trying." Her voice turned to instant sympathy and she said, "I know," as if it was a forgone conclusion that I was failing.
Um, no. When I try, I succeed. The question is why, sometimes, I stop trying. Wait, strike that. The question is why, in the past, I have stopped trying. There, that's much better.
OK, so we've covered the bad and the issues. Now for the good. On the bright side, I have to adore a coworker. She's a triathlete. I won't say that her accomplishments come easily to her, but I am going to appreciate that she's an accomplished athlete. I'd dare say that she's a natural athlete. Anyway, my point: Here I am, all 215 pounds of me, and what does she do? She invites me to join her and her friends in a marathon. A half marathon is available, but nothing less. Yes, it's not until October, but still.
I love it when people can look past the appearance and recognize that I can accomplish great things.
It doesn't matter that I know that it's out of my current grasp; it's wonderful when someone gives me the benefit of the doubt.
Especially a "real" athlete.
I owe her a hug.