I'm guessing never? No, I don't have any desire to stop my dieting and exercise. I've set myself the target of 10 stone 5lbs and I am determined to reach it. I'm talking about when, as women, we can throw in the towel. Say that's it, game over, I'm done with all of this. I'm going to let myself go. Wouldn't that be lovely - to just not bother about weight, ageing and the like. How liberating would that be - its never going to happen though is it. Even your most irritating "we should be equal blah blah" feminists out there will still be trotting off to get their roots done, to please themselves of course, not for any man whose bollocks they probably chopped off on route to the hairdressers.
I was discussing this at yesterday's playgroup. For my toddler not for me you understand but maybe there is a market for a playgroup for adults where you do exactly what you want for 2 hours and then go home. At what age is it acceptable to throw in the towel? When can you say I'm not dying my hair anymore (thankfully I don't have to as yet - its just a waiting game), when can the diets end, when can you just not bother anymore? Woman maintenance gets harder the older you get. There are things that didn't even occur to you in your 20's but now you have to think about all these little things just to be presentable.
When I was working out last week (I've had a full week off exercise - which resumes today) to the biggest loser doing burpees and dancing with wrist weights I though "what an earth are you doing" you're nearly 40 and your prancing around doing all of this. I'm too old for this shit - its a young persons game. Of course I know its a necessity and its my own fault for over indulging for the 3rd time whilst pregnant but I remember when my nan was this age and that generation looked old at this age. They were wearing the little flat shoes with laces, A line skirts and their hair was grey. I remember my nan wishing her grey was like my grandad's all lovely and silver not a dull grey.
The sad thing is she was never fat she was lovely and curvy. She was forever dieting or at weight watchers. I believe the last time was in her late 50's/early 60's - she'd written in her diary her starting weight of 10 stone 10 - she was about 5ft 3in I think.
She died aged 62 of stomach cancer. She'd left it too late to catch it in time as she never wanted to trouble the doctor. My grandad hadn't even retired (he was 2 years younger). But I shall always remember visiting her in their bedroom prior to her transfer to the local hospice. She said to my 12 year old self that it was bloody typical that the only time she loses weight is when she's got cancer. She told me to take some money out of her purse for some new tights but I didn't want to. I don't know why - I said oh don't worry. Stupid really - she knew she was dying. I knew she was dying. But I didn't want to take any money off of her.
The last time I saw her she told me to eat the Marks and Spencers prawn mayo sandwiches that the hospice had come round with as "they're not cheap Marks". I watched as she threw them up - she died shortly afterwards.
So I don't want to be dieting, exercising, worrying about wrinkles and all the stuff that in the grand scheme of things really doesn't matter and certainly not on my death bed. Whether that will ever happen I don't know but lets hope one day I can throw in the towel!