Everyone who has taken any intro to physics knowForce= Mass x AccelerationSadly a quarter or two later you learn about how stored energy works.Last night was a physics word problem come to life at my little Fit4Mom workout class.My mass accelerating created enough force to snap the resistance band that my partner was holding for me and it snapped back unleashing all of that stored energy hitting her hand and whipping back to give a big lash on her back. I was so worried for her, concerned about her pain and hand, guilty and embarrassed last night that I came home and cried on Michael.Now getting the word that her fingers aren’t broken and ligaments look OK I can focus on those last two emotions especially the embarrassment.The root of it is in the fact that it is hard for me to look at my body objectively, even when I am my fittest self I struggle with seeing myself with love and kindness and when you add the 20 lb that I can’t move since Miranda was born it is a real struggle. I work hard, and especially since I have a husband who I feel secure knowing he loves my body and children who I want to always feel good in their own skin, I work hard to be kinder and to be appreciative. And it usually works OK. I actually oddly feel better about my body naked than I do dressed and had recently convinced myself that was a sign of ill fitting or uninspiring clothing.
Now, I know in my head that it could have happened to anyone. Furthermore there are women in this class who are 5'11" and certainly weigh as much as I do unless they are severely underweight. But I am feeling HUMILIATED. No one made any indication that my fatty self had caused the accident and i was not self absorbed enough to worry about it much last night but today I'm so so embarrassed. And struggling to regain perspective on my self image. I really don't want to go back to class and, albeit immature, I keep finding myself wanting to or actually self sabotage with food. I hate that my self image is so fragile and really hate how quickly any progress can be dashed. There is nothing I want more than to get a handle on my own shit before my kids get cognizant of the idea that there should ever be anything to dislike about your body. And I will keep working on it because it really does matter to me that Michael and I lead the way for them. But holy shit this incident highlighted what a thin (excuse me healthy) rope I walk on the path of good self image.