I cannot decide if my dieting is vanity or if it is about getting back into the old and fit me. Is it because I don’t want to be my age, 51? Or is it because I just don’t buy it that you have to “let go” at 51. Or be a health-obsessed and plastic-surgery-fixated white entitled Western middle-class woman.
Aren’t there room for something in between? Like, for instance, I actually like running marathons, and I also like running with my dog, which I did before I broke my foot.
It’s not vanity that I want that back.
But, I admit, there is vanity to wanting to look a certain way. But not in wanting to feel a certain way. I feel empowered when I can run. When I can run 42 k. That’s a really fucking great feeling. But it takes some training. It still remains to be seen if I can run.
But I can bike! So I took Stella and had the best dinner at mom’s terrace: cabbage, bacon, sweet potatoes and salad.
And I have totally fallen in love with HBO’s show Killing Eve that my daughter recommended to me. It’s fantastic. A female antihero worthy of an academic paper. I started on that paper today and will continue tomorrow. Will present on Thursday on a critics-meet-author panel for Margrethe Bruun Vaage’s The Antihero in American Television.
And when can I wear high heels again??????