Does This Stress Make Me Look Fat?

Last Friday was date night for Michael and me, since I had scored some deeply discounted Cirque du Soliel tickets through work. (Yay! Cobb County School District rocks!) I wanted to really do it up right, wear my fancy clothes and big up my hair and everything. Ya gotta keep things exciting, you know? So after teasing up my do, painting on some sparkly eye shadow, and pulling on the one pair of hose I own (fishnets--they don't run), I slipped into my "little black dress."

"When did THIS happen?!" I blurted out as Michael zipped me up. What used to be draping satin now looked like a sausage casing. I wanted to cry. This was the last thing I needed before going to watch incredibly fit, flexible, and firm bodies contort and propel themselves through the air under the big top. I had obviously, without realizing it, "let myself go."

But how could this be? I still weigh the same as I did the day I met Michael. In fact, I may be a couple pounds shy of that weight. Yet the little black dress doesn't lie. It's dry clean only, so I can't blame the dryer. I am fatter now than I was three years ago when I bought it for New Year's Eve 2009. Of course, my questions are merely rhetorical, because I know darn well what happened. See, muscle weighs more than fat, volume for volume. So, while I was gaining fat, I was losing that dense, scale-pushing muscle. While there was no net gain, my toned lats have been replaced with back fat. My lean biceps have retired, turning the business over to flab. I still look okay in my clothes, but a bikini will betray the truth. I'm "skinny fat." You use it or lose it. And my gym frequency has been about as spotty as Lindsey Lohan's attendance at community service. I go when I feel like it, when I have the time, when there's no work to be done, or nothing better to do. How's that for commitment?

If you know me or have read much of what I write here, then you can probably guess how I responded to this. I changed into another dress with a more forgiving fabric, I went to the show, enjoyed my evening with my husband, and then hit the gym on Sunday morning. I have a new eating plan, supplements, and a renewed sense of purpose with regard to my body. The little black dress in hanging in my bathroom as a reminder of where I'm headed. And I WILL get there...

But that's not really the point of this post. As Michael and I pedaled away on our elliptical machines, I scanned the gym and the classrooms at all the people with a purpose of their own. Dozens of men and women, all ages, were cycling, lifting, running, playing sports, and dancing. I saw so much effort, but it was all effort for one thing: to improve their bodies. Sure, that might mean different things to different people; some want to gain muscle, others just want to burn fat, and still others are trying to improve its ability to perform specific tasks. Still, it's all external, physical, and ephemeral. Let's face it. These bodies have a shelf life of about 80 some-odd years, then they just give out. No matter how much we work on them, they will eventually diminish and perish. That's not to say that we shouldn't keep them in the best shape possible. Oh, believe me, you come check on me in six weeks and see if I'm not cut up like the chicks on the cover of Oxygen magazine! (Okay, that's just trash-talking. I gotta keep myself motivated. But I will be better than I am now; trust me.) However, in the end, is it really our bodies that matter? Is keeping lean abs or sculpted arms the real key to happiness?

Most of us are focusing our efforts on the wrong things. How many gyms do you pass by on your way home from work or school each day? Now, ask yourself how many meditation centers you pass? How many yoga studios? We spend so much more time on our outsides than we do our insides. And it's really the internal workouts that improve our lives, isn't it? The ironic thing is, new research is showing that stress (which meditation and yoga can greatly reduce) is a primary cause of belly fat. So, perhaps thirty minutes of meditation would do a lot more for reducing that waistline than an hour on a treadmill.

We are all impressed when someone loses a large amount of weight or develops a lean, muscular body. We can't escape the countless ads on the TV, the radio, and in print. It's a billion dollar industry! But how many of us cultivate that same dedication to eliminating our flabby egos? Where are the products to help us suppress our anger, rather than our appetites? Where are the 90 day programs to help us trim the fat from our souls? How much extra weight is your spirit carrying around?

So, I am giving myself credit for the work I have been doing on my insides lately. I've got a much skinnier ego these days, my pain-body is light as a feather, and I've lost a ton of spiritual "weight." Sure, I still have work to do, and I'll probably never reach any sort of "goal" when it comes to my spirit, since I believe you grow till you die, but the progress I'm making is just fine. Today, I am conscious, present, and aware. And that beats having cut up abs any day.

But I'm still gonna get back in that little black dress. I'm just saying.