Winter is fat. Fat is winter.
Its happening. I can feel it around my thighs. That's where it starts. Always. Winter is descending and so is the fat that comes with it. It starts innocently enough. I few pints of dank micro brews, perhaps a slice of Pizzicato. Then the boyfriend makes some sinful concoction with potatoes and meat and butter. I practically lick the plate its so good. Week after week of this.
I panic. I switch to light beer. No cheese. No white flour. Practically an impossibility in this country. "I want to be Asia skinny again!!!" I wail. "Selene, you had amoebic dysentery." The boyfriend points out gravely. "Yeah, but I looked HOT!!" I sob, remembering my tan, slender limbs. I am not in Asia anymore. I know this much is true, and I don't want to face it. It was so effortless. The light meals that tasted so good and then came straight out the other end 20 minutes later. Like an involuntary type of bulemia, except anal. Good stuff.
Reality sets in. I know now that I am back in FAT America- where the pounds come on as effortlessly as they were lost in Asia-that I have to work at it. Dammit. The flyer for the gym stares at me from its post on the refrigerator. Visions of treadmills dance in my head. "Just do it fat ass" my brain urges me. All I wanted was to be born with a body like Cindy Crawford and a metabolism that goes with it. All I wanted was........Aw, screw it. I was born with a body like a Bottecelli painting and it COULD look good if I got off my dimpled ass and walked to they gym once in awhile. "Tomorrow.." I tell myself. And I waddle into the kitchen to make breakfast.
I panic. I switch to light beer. No cheese. No white flour. Practically an impossibility in this country. "I want to be Asia skinny again!!!" I wail. "Selene, you had amoebic dysentery." The boyfriend points out gravely. "Yeah, but I looked HOT!!" I sob, remembering my tan, slender limbs. I am not in Asia anymore. I know this much is true, and I don't want to face it. It was so effortless. The light meals that tasted so good and then came straight out the other end 20 minutes later. Like an involuntary type of bulemia, except anal. Good stuff.
Reality sets in. I know now that I am back in FAT America- where the pounds come on as effortlessly as they were lost in Asia-that I have to work at it. Dammit. The flyer for the gym stares at me from its post on the refrigerator. Visions of treadmills dance in my head. "Just do it fat ass" my brain urges me. All I wanted was to be born with a body like Cindy Crawford and a metabolism that goes with it. All I wanted was........Aw, screw it. I was born with a body like a Bottecelli painting and it COULD look good if I got off my dimpled ass and walked to they gym once in awhile. "Tomorrow.." I tell myself. And I waddle into the kitchen to make breakfast.
posted by Selené Emrys at 2:09 PM
2 Comments:
Instead of going to the gym, you could call your friend Nate and we could go for a long bike ride! No better way to tone the legs.
The Sellwood loop is 10 miles or so and quite flat. Clearwater trail is 50 miles with a 2% grade (a mild incline on the way out to Boring).
What say you?
no worries, we will join the gym, after denmark we will drag our asses down there, and fight away the cellioite, hiking is wonderfull too.
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