Asking the loaded question

Women thrive on assessments. We take online surveys, we don’t have to get our arms twisted to see the doctor, we constantly look in the mirror.

“Am I alright?”

Complete this survey in  your mind. The answer you get the most is:

1. You betcha.

2. You’re getting there.

3. I don’t think so.

4. OMG


If you are often blessed with the first answer: Get out of my face. You are my brother’s wife, my friend’s wife who is magically talented in so many ways, or one of my friends who is the perfect size-6 mother. I love them, I acknowledge them, and I do everything I can to not feel as though I’m a social, fashion, or life DON’T when I am in their presence.

If you hear “You’re getting there,” as I often do, you know that the hapless victim you asked, aka The Husband, is just trying to get through the day without having to inflate your self esteem. It’s exhausting for them. I sometimes think that if guys knew they had to constantly reassure the women they plan to marry they might rethink the whole thing and just stick to being Friends With Benefits. Heh.

I don’t have a friend close enough to tell me the last two answers, so I do that for myself. Right now I’m recovering from yet another fitness failure. You know it’s partly because of having been laid up with an injury for a while, but it’s also getting comfortable with NOT waking up early for a workout, or NOT getting on my bicycle trainer after work. It’s an awful existence. I look in the mirror and groan and whine. As a result, my husband fixed up my at-home trainer with a bigger ring, a few more links in my chain, and the Garmin computer. Why? Because I love the feedback I get. I want to see the calories I burned, the cadence I achieved. I know that it will all translate into thinner thighs, a taut tummy, tight triceps and a beautiful disposition. Someday. Sigh.

It also lets the man in my life off the hook. I think he likes that. I think all guys like that. Maybe I should survey them?



Author: lavagal

Hawaii Kai wife and mom. Melanoma Stage 3a Cancer survivor. English Language Learners Coordinator and Paraprofessional Tutor. Super sub teacher. Dormant triathlete. Road cyclist and Masters swimmer. Gardener. Mrs. Fixit. Random dancer. Music Curator. A teenager trapped in an aging body. Did you know 60 is the new 40? It is.

6 thoughts on “Asking the loaded question”

  1. let’s the man in your life off the hook? um, no. merely beginning to do my part for the cause. i never had the delusion that just setting up some hardware would let me hang up the “mission accomplished” banner and start posing in my flight suit. now is when the motivational speaking begins. in a van, down by the river. break’s over, back on our heads.


  2. that’s was good. i wonder if there is a ratio of chain ring size to waist, hip, thigh size? sound’s like a master’s thesis to me.

    my wife always says; ‘be friends with the body you’ve got.’ if it’s getting you where you need to go, when you need to go there, and most systems are a-OK, you are in the game, even if you’re not ahead of it. she speaks not as a grasshopper. i’ve watched her mobility decrease and her pain increase incrementally since she was 40. now,looking at her 60th year, getting out of bed in the morning has to start at five am if she has a nine am appointment.

    it’s hot coffee, hot tub, and a will of steel that keeps her not only going, but going with style and a smile, day after day, week after week. sometimes i tell her: ‘you’re twice the man i am.’

  3. first off, let me apologize for the errant apostrophe in my first comment. turk: i installed a 53×39 instead of a compact crankset so when the coach on the DVD says “go to your big chainring,” no mental calculations are necessary to get the appropriate gear-inches. paula: me? lecture? *blink, blink*

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