So I went to Italy. I managed to not cry when I put on my team tracksuit on the morning of our flight and realised that it was tight around my hips. I managed to not cry when a friend of mine playfully punched me in the stomach and said "58 kilo my arse..." I even managed to control myself when another friend commented on my currently curvaceous bottom. But I nearly lost it when I was standing next to my skinny little sister and someone made a distinct comparison along the lines of "I'd take your sister, she looks fitter". I know these were intended as jokes. And were said by incredibly light people who had been starving themselves for weeks to make weight for this competition. I'm not going to take it personally. But it was tough. Being there was tough. Watching everyone compete whilst I explained repeatedly why I wasn't taking part. But I'm hoping, really hoping that this horrible experience will help give me the hunger and motivation to start training again properly. I want the gold. I want the glory. And it would be nice to have my body back too.
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2 comments:
Wow. What an experience! I'm so sorry that people said all those rude things to you. Joking or not, they're still rude and people know that.
Did you at least have fun in Italy though??
It was definitely an emotional time for me. I actually broke down on the Saturday afternoon and just bawled my eyes out, I couldn't handle the pressure of it any more. I opened up to my room-mate, and we actually have a lot more in common than I'd realised (gonna post about that in a while!)
Italy was beautiful, Lake Garda is stunning, and Venice was definitely worth seeing, so I guess I'm glad I went.
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