I'm really struggling with the weightlifting, and something just doesn't seem right. I've had to lay off lifting a bit this month because of Atlanta trips, but I'm getting exhausted during weightlifting sessions and it's not the kind that I get a second wind and bounce back from. Something's not right, and I don't know what.

There was more said than that, but it's unimportant. Val's response was unequivocal:

You are tired. When tired, you're more likely to injure yourself. Take a week off and we'll start fresh next week.

I dunno, folks; I feel like I'm admitting defeat here, but maybe it's time I did. I've had very few good, solid workouts in the past month; most of them have been squarely in the "I toughed them out and I hope this is worth it" category, and it just hasn't been improving.

It's hard not to look at the silk dresses in my closet, those $3 and $4 rescues from Atlanta-area thrift stores, and hate myself a little because I can't wear them yet. I want the end result, and I want it now, but I'm stuck in this in-between land of 16. I'm not where I was before; I'm much stronger and healthier than I was in January, but I'm not done, and I'm doing a pretty crappy job of accepting that fact.

I know if I'm patient, and I give my body some time to rest, I'll come back ready to fight this fight again, but right now all I hear is my mind saying "Every day you're not in the gym is another day before this is over and this weight is off your body."

Secretly, I wanted to be done by January. I wanted to buy a ticket out west to help Chris with TromaDance, knowing that by the time I got out there I'd be done, and we could celebrate. But, realistically, it is not going to happen, not unless one of two miracles occur:

1. My rate of weight loss drastically increases
2. I suddenly don't need to lose as much weight as I think I do

Even I know that neither of those two options are likely.

It's hard not to feel one of my major goals - wearing a size 12 by dragon*con, which is the first weekend of September - slipping away. Dragon*con is 72 days away. Given that I am able to drop a dress size every five weeks only under the best of circumstances, I think it's probably time for me to accept that I'm likely to just miss my goal by the barest of margins.

Dammit. I'd really been hoping for that one, too.

Facing that fact has forced me to come to another decision: even if I don't make it to a size 12 by dragon*con, I'm still going to do the Evil Catholic Schoolgirl costume this year. I'm slowly getting more comfortable with the idea of people actually seeing me, seeing my legs, seeing pretty much anything that I previously hid under loose-fitting clothing. With that, I've also become more accepting of the idea that the choice to costume is as much about one's body as it is one's attitude about it.

Size 12 or not, I think I've earned the 'right' to costume this year. I won't embarrass myself and I won't stand out in the crowd as "that girl wearing the costume she really didn't have the body to wear," so the rest is just my learning to take a breath and say, "Screw it. I want to wear this."

For now, though, I just have to be patient - and let my body rest.

Aside: Elenita posed an interesting question in comments attached to this entry. It, and my response, are worth reading in conjunction with this entry.