an odd metric

I don’t particularly have issues with my weight. (I couldn’t even tell you what it is, with a margin of error smaller than five pounds; we don’t own a scale.) But I will admit that I have some issues with my composition, by which I mean the lean-to-squish ratio of me is skewed more toward the latter than I would like, and sometimes that also means issues with my shape.

Last night, however, I got vivid proof that my general shape has not changed all that much in the last fifteen years or so. Going through the costume closet, in a (not entirely successful) attempt to cull its contents a bit, I dug out and tried on all the old dance costumes I’ve been holding on to.

And they all fit.

They didn’t necessarily look good on me — some of them I don’t think ever looked good, on anybody — but I got them on, and without putting the spandex to much of a test. And these are things I wore when I was fifteen and dancing eight hours a week. To which I say: dude. I would not have predicted that.

Mind you, this put a crimp in my plan to chuck out lots of costumes that don’t fit me anymore, because they do fit. I’ve chucked the truly ugly ones instead, the things that only look vaguely right when put in motion, on a stage, a healthy distance from the audience, but that’s only half or so of the total. (I should get rid of more, especially now that I’m not involved in a Changeling game where random dance costumes come in handy for playing a swan maiden or water elemental or whatever — but I can’t bring myself to do it. I might need them someday.) But it was an encouraging experience, and only firmed my resolve — pardon the pun — to do more things to increase the lean percentage of me. Today I rode my bike for the first time since my ankle surgery in the spring, and in the future intend to run as many of my errands as I can that way, weather permitting. My glutes may hate me for it today, but they’ll thank me eventually.

0 Responses to “an odd metric”

  1. kurayami_hime


    Bicycles can do magical things.

  2. unforth

    Your glutes don’t know it, but even through the pain they are thanking you right now. 🙂 And that’s truly awesome. Moments like this are tough to come by, but I know one that I keep thinking – and it more or less applies to you, based on this story – is “sure, I could stand to lose more weight, and I’m a little more jiggly than I’d like, but how many women my age can say they weigh the same as they did when they graduated from HS?”

    Good call dumping the ones you don’t need/were hideous, but I second the other – if they fit, who knows, they may come in handy some day!

    • Marie Brennan

      Except for a brief period, I’ve never really thought in terms of my weight; it’s really more about my level of fitness. I know that can get dysfunctional, too, but overall I think it’s a vastly preferable framework.

      • unforth

        These days, I combat a dysfunctional Attitude towered the number that is my weight by mostly emphasizing what fits me and how happy I am with my reflection in the mirror – put another way, my measurements. Over all, I’m pretty satisfied with all of these just now: but I do struggle to resist a bad mindset re: numbers on the scale. 🙂

        • Marie Brennan

          That’s why I don’t own a scale, even though sometimes it would be really useful if I did. It’s too easy for me to fixate on that number, and not to think about more important metrics like “can I run a mile?”

  3. artemisgrey

    You rock the house! There was a time when I couldn’t have fit in the stuff I wore when I was fifteen and riding everyday, but I’ve come full circle and I’m back to that point now… not that anything from the early/mid nineties is anything I want to see on anyone ever again… now if we were to go back a little farther to the ridiculousness that was the 80s… I’m in for all that Boy George weirdness… 🙂

    • Marie Brennan

      Heh. <g> My clothes were never that crazy, but some of the dance costumes date to the period of crushed velvet. I can see its use for stage purposes — it catches the light interestingly — but at close range, um, no.

  4. matociquala

    I’m all for improved mightiness!

    • Marie Brennan

      You want to know something funny? The one place where the costumes fit the least well . . . was in the sleeves.

      And man, you’ve seen me. I am not exactly well-endowed in the arm strength department. But apparently more than I was in high school . . . .

  5. Anonymous

    oh yeah. never throw out dance costumes. you never know WHEN you might need those suckers.

    • Marie Brennan

      There are a few I’m getting rid of, because I decided that whether I needed them or not, I didn’t want to be seen in public wearing them. 🙂

      • Anonymous

        Inquiring moms want to know which ones you got rid of – probably the ones that cost me the most $$!

        • Marie Brennan

          The blue crushed-velvet short bodysuit with the weird net cutout in the back, the blue bodysuit with the crushed-velvet sleeves-and-top, and the purple . . . thingy from one of my lyrical dances, that isn’t quite a dress and isn’t quite a pantsuit. Also the green crushed-velvet shrug/wrap/thingy, though I may hold onto that long enough to copy it in a better fabric.

          In other words, most of the crushed velvet. What I’ve kept are the lyrical dresses in various colors: white, blue, green, and black. Plus the pink not-a-tutu thing, in case I ever need a costume that says BALLET.

          • Anonymous

            I think the green crused velvet shrug thing was from your flag solo. No problem with the crushed velvet stuff. Glad you’re keeping the pink not-quite-a-tutu; I think that was from Shells and it cost a fortune!

  6. d_c_m

    Hooray! I am very happy for you. 🙂

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