In yesterday's comments, Jonathan suggested I consider using the present tense when I referred to myself 10 years ago as the fittest I'd been in my adult life. [Or something like that.] And Lori agreed. So that's been lodged in my brain ever since. [Thank you both for not mentioning a bad song from the '70s.]
As long as my actual weight is greater than my goal weight, I don't think I can call myself fit. It all comes down to the pounds that still cling, and it would take a very great psychic shift to change my mind about this.
Don't get me wrong: I know I'm fit. My blood levels are perfect, my blood pressure – generally 110/70-ish – is especially good for someone in her mid 50s, my resting pulse is in the low 60s. I can run up and down the stairs without panting or wheezing, and I can lift that barge and tote that bale. [I need to work more on strength training, and probably always will, but I can lift and press and crunch without straining and without hurting myself. When I feel like it. Whine.]
But the fittest I've ever been as an adult? Now? I'm having a little trouble wrapping my brain around that. Being able to run a few miles without stopping is pretty amazing and full o' fitness, but … I still need to lose some weight to completely believe I'm the fittest I've ever been.
There you have it.
Thanks for the suggestions on what to do with all that fulled fabric. I like the idea of cutting off the sides to reduce the width, but then I'd have ugly corner seams at the top to deal with. [The bag is knit in the round, so the top edge is nice and smooth.] Does anyone need hot pads for a purple kitchen? I'll be happy to send it to you! Seriously! Just e-mail me at shrinkingknitter AT citynet DOT net and I'll pop it in the mail, no postage required, no questions asked. Frankly, I don't want to deal with making something new out of it.
I've actually moved on to a new felting project – I'm making a colorful collection of bowls from One Skein: 30 Quick Projects to Knit and Crochet, which I will fill with Easter candy and send to my grandchildren. They can do whatever they want with the bowls [Note to my daughter: Yes, you can pitch them if you want!] – I just think they're adorable and wanted an excuse to make some. When I see how these work out, I may do some that will coordinate with my living room. Unless I've had my fill of making bowls.
My first 10-mile run is scheduled for today. I don't know why one additional mile is causing me so much anxiety. I didn't sleep well, woke up for good at 5 a.m. and just want to get it over with. How am I going to feel the night before The Race? Marathoning for Mortals suggests I won't sleep then, either.
Five weeks until race day!