I AM SO SUMMER.
^^^T-shirt: sale on sale at J. Crew. Shorts: Marshall’s.
But only as of the past couple days because I just bought these fun clothes this weekend.
And only because nothing else in my closet fits.
Insert Mean Girls <<Sweat pants are the only thing that fits me right now. >> reference here.
I felt the shame and embarrassment and rejection that Regina felt in that cafeteria. When all her friends realized her ass actually was bigger and Juicy velour pants were her only option.
Last week I tried on the shorts I hadn’t tried on since October—the shorts I hadn’t put on since moving to Colorado from Florida—and I realized all of them were either skin tight or didn’t comfortably button. At first, and for a little while after, I was upset. It was very clear I’d gained weight and that 90% of the summer clothes I brought with me weren’t going to work for me anymore.
Then I remembered back to 12 minutes earlier when I was happy and excited because I’d just ridden 70 miles on some of Colorado’s most beautiful mountain trails. These legs that grew two pants sizes had also taken me up almost 6,000 feet above the treeline. And here I was resenting them for not fitting into a pair of jean shorts with an arbitrary number attached to it that indicated a body size I used to be.
And so a few minutes later, I packed everything up and headed for the J. Crew outlet. And then a few minutes after that, I was more busted about spending money on new clothes than the reason why I had to spend money on new clothes: gaining weight.
In fact, the smaller Lindsay really sucked. She wasn’t happy or fun. She didn’t know how to love herself or anyone else, and it showed. When I let go of Florida and my life in Florida, I let go of the person I was in Florida.
^^^Will it make me happy? mindset.
And while I’m bigger for it (heh), I’m also better for it. And it’s time to start saving and budgeting for a new wardrobe. Happily.
Climbs off soap box.
The things that have made me the happiest out here all had to do with the bike. One of them was climbing up to Gold Hill for the first time on Saturday.
Gold Hill, a sleepy town stuck in the early 1900s, sits at 8,300 feet and is a BITCH to get to on a bike. The steep dirt road to the top is undergoing serious construction, making it that much more punishing. My watch read 3mph at one point and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever make it to the top. The dirt kept going and going and one switchback turned into seven more until FINALLY that dusty dirt road opened up and I had less than half a mile until I rolled through this Wild West town, population 200.
This was a solo mission. I was supposed to ride 10,000 feet in a day with a friend, but that fell through so I settled for a solo day of exploring.
And I could’ve stayed out all day.
Eventually I went down the way I came and went searching for some dirt trails in North Boulder. I’ve ridden these before, but not on a day like this. Not on a day when the big, open blue skies actually made the mountains feel smaller.
I often get decision fatigue on weekends. There are so many beautiful places to ride and I want to see them all, so I decided that Saturdays for exploring new places. Each weekend I’ll do a new section or trail or town.
Can’t wait to see where next Saturday will take me!
Push on, PUSH ANIMALS >>>