If I needed something to keep me motivated in continuing working out and eating right I got a dose of it this week—actually a double dose.

The first reality check came when I went to get measured for a bridesmaid’s dress for my brother’s November wedding. I give credit to my future sister-in-law for picking a dress that I may actually be able to wear more than once. Unfortunately the chiffon gown isn’t very forgiving in some of my problem areas (although by November I’m hoping those problem areas are a distant memory). The bridal shop is small and I, of course, picked an afternoon to go when the shop was packed with brides and high school girls looking for prom dresses. I tried on the sample dress and then I was supposed to wait patiently for the woman to come back and measure me. Well, what was supposed to be a few minutes of waiting turned out to be 20, so I walked up to the front of the store to remind them I was still back there. To my horror she decided to measure me right there in front of the whole store. She measured my bust first (actually this was the only measurement I wished was bigger), next came the waist (yes, I cringed when this number was said out loud to the assistant who was writing the numbers down) and finally the measuring tape went to the hips. This was the number that really made me want to run on a treadmill for 24 hours straight. One of the stick-thin high school prom girls gave me a raised eyebrow look as she walked by (I swear I didn’t imagine it) and I wanted to scream, “Enjoy being a size 2 now sweetheart it won’t last forever.” I kept my composure and refrained. I left feeling larger than life, but I swore that when I go back in two months to pick up my dress I’m going to ask the woman to take my measurements again—and those numbers, I promise you, will be lower.

My second hit of reality came later in the week at my favorite getaway, Joseph Anthony Retreat Spa and Salon in Glen Mills. I went in for a mini-day of pampering which included a spray tan. I had never had a spray tan there before so I wasn’t sure what to expect. When the girl who was doing my spray tan handed me a bandeau top and bikini bottoms made of the material they make hospital gowns out of I knew I was in trouble. I’m the girl who never takes her cover-up off when I’m on the beach so even the thought of standing in front of one other person in my “faux-bikini” made me wince. When I walked into the spray tan room and saw the three-way mirror that I had to stand in front of while she sprayed my entire body I knew I was really in trouble. I told the girl how uncomfortable I was standing there, and her reply basically was, “Get over it.” So that’s what I did—I thought happy thoughts and tried not to look in the mirror because when you’re wearing what’s essentially a bikini standing in front of a three-way mirror, you’re seeing parts of your body you really don’t want to be seeing—from all angles. The whole process took 20 minutes but it felt like hours. The end result though was totally worth it.  My pale skin was transformed into a natural-looking golden brown, and I swear having color makes you look thinner. I’ll definitely be back to Joseph Anthony for more color and when I do I hope I feel comfortable enough to look in that mirror and feel proud—not nauseous. 

Parting thought:

Change and growth take place when a person has risked himself and dares to become involved with experimenting with his own life.