Friday, April 16, 2010
Yeah, my weight fluctuations are probably a combination of muscle gain, water gain, and also, the most ever fantastic fact that I seem to forget every month--I ALWAYS plateau and gain about 10 days before the girl-time. Yuck.
Ran 3.1 miles, 35 minutes (bad time, but that's including warm up and cool down), burning off 289.5 calories
Stairclimber: 13:03 minutes, 160 calories
Sationary bike: 7 minutes, 62 calories
Elliptical: 8 minutes, 89 calories
Total time: 1 hour, 3 minutes, 3 seconds (01:03:03)
Total calories: 600.5
That little .5 is so unholy....I wanted to hit the treadmill when my time ran out at 289.5 calories. It wouldn't let me increase time to get to a nice whole number. Nope. Decided to screw me, instead. I hate 5's. I don't know why. On my grades, a 92% (for exams) is like...a C. A 98% is okay. A 100% is...irritating, for some reason (since we normally have extra credit, and 100 is indicative of fucking up and not being completely perfect, only false perfection). And 95% is like...mediocre. Like, either I should have studied harder, or just not studied at all. It's somewhere in the middle, and the number makes me insane.
I keep watching documentaries about people with AN and other ED's. I see the symptoms listed out, and I'm like, "Oh, I can't REALLY have anything wrong. I don't (do the same exercise every day; have anxiety attacks when not able to do said exercise; have a rigid number of steps I have to count up to; have to eat the same thing every day; wear clothing too big for me; am a neat freak; have perfectionist tendencies; etc., etc. etc.,)." Now, before you correct the perfectionism, let me just say this--my room is messy, I don't particularly care if it's in a certain order or not, and only my exams face the wrath of my need for absolute perfection. My grades are always mediocre, and I can't seem to turn things in, and I'm not really a high achiever.
Therefor, I don't really have any disorder at all.
Isn't it ironic how the same shows trying villanize this quest for perfection and the "improper pressure placed on girls" does the same thing by invalidating less extreme versions of the disorder, and only showing the most shocking?
"Anorexics are all like this...." Because, of course, no girl with an eating disorder has a proper BMI, suffers from COED phases, can't organize their life, has ADD and severe issues with managing to clean, feels overwhelmed by mess, can't bring themselves to be a high achiever, and maybe may not really be that academically brilliant/need to prove themselves in their grades/need to show their perfection in the form of their schoolwork and-or regular work. Of course, we all need to be compartmentalized, and anyone who doesn't match that category? Well, they're simply not good enough to worry about.
No one cares about the fat girl who hasn't eaten in two weeks beyond lemons.
It's just a fad diet.
She can't be suffering.
Let's film the skinniest of the skinny, instead, and act like nobody will take you seriously and listen to you when you say you're screaming and dying inside, until they can see you decomposing before their eyes....
...awesome. I totally approve. (Or not. Obviously.)
On another note, I got an 83% on my last exam.
It was harder than the others.
Now I'm going to have to nail my final, and my next homework assignment, to get above a B for that class.
Fucking GPA's. Because a 3.2 cumulative is bad enough, but I refuse to keep my GPA for that school at 2.9. I die inside.
And obviously, I can't have a food-related disorder. My grades are too low.
("Hey, is PrettyWreck anorexic?" "Oh, no, she got a C on her last quiz." "Oooooh....so she's just compensating?" "Pretty much.")
Wow. Migraines make me cranky pants.
I'm gonna stop cranky-facing at all of you now, sit here with massive amounts of excedrin, and wait for my shift to end.
And also continue reading this really, really bad romance novel. Because after my suck of an exam yesterday, I could use it.
(Also, I think I strained my neck not through excercise alone, but also from chucking my textbook so hard across my room that I shook the wall. I really need to focus on my posture and form before throwing things in a rage for any distance. Not only would it improve the general strength of the pitch, but it would most likely increase satisfaction, and decrease self-inflicted negative side effects...hm.....)
Stay strong, my underachieving, nondisordered, food experimentors. May the power of wrongful perception work only to your benefit.
*Insert strange vulcan hand gesture here...and disregard my geekiness showing itself in the form of Star Trek references.*