“The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche
Excuse me while I remove (Read: lick) some sugar cookie frosting from my digits. And while I’m licking, a word to the wise: Always under bake your sugar cookies. It makes them that much better. But ample amounts of frosting will always do the trick. Think about it.
Ah, now that that is over, it has come to my attention – via a checkup and blood work yesterday – that I am on the wrong side of BMI. The ‘obese’ side, she announces as she picks sprinkles off the remainder of the cookie. I found it delightfully entertaining when the person who took my height and weight repeated the ‘But you don’t look it’ catch phrase. For the record being told such doesn’t make me feel better, it makes me want to judo chop a scale and question how one’s looks are relevant. Also, I don’t look like you could fashion me into the base of a parade float but height and weight have dictated otherwise.
There’s a nurse practitioner still scratching her head about this one.
Then I went home and ran and did the
30 Day Shred and felt my heart ‘garggling’ in my throat. Then I cried again and realized that part of the extreme weight gain is probably because I spent three solid months not at home and during my long term tour of the 48 contiguous states, I was also severely depressed. So to recap: I was sad and got fat and then my anti-sad medication kept me on a trajectory to being forced to buy two seats for myself on a plane.
OK it’s nothing that extreme as the flight attendant pointed out to me when I was able to swiftly maneuver myself away from spilling hot coffee by doing a hop/step/jump between an airplane seat, the tray table and the obnoxious bitch in front of me who wouldn’t raise her seat back so I could at least sit down. Yet there I was able to get my ass moved into the tiniest space possible without a hitch or ripping a stitch. So you know, yay me!
Since this development I’ve been alternately crying and canceling shopping trips because I don’t want to shop. I don’t care that it’s not like I have an issue finding clothing anywhere, because I truly don’t. But it’s a me thing – a thing that causes this cantaloupe sized lump in my throat because I’m fat. No one wants to be the fat girl. The one thing I should be able to control I have never once been able to. It’s like holding a wriggling lizard in my hand: The second I think I have a good grasp on it, it slips out again. Flopping around and trying to get away while I huff and puff and chase after it. Everything I cannot control: My career, my writing. Well that shit is going well, thank you for asking.
Let’s just say that it’s making me far more depressed and ornery than usual. Let’s also say that I do not think that the Wii Fit will change my life. But I do think that a month of no flying and being home and half-marathon training will probably help. Speaking of the
Wii Fit, the winner is Neena. Neena doesn’t have a blog but her comment was something along the lines of
‘I look like I am pregnant and I am definitely NOT pregnant’. I picked her using a random number generator but when I saw that comment I wanted to high five her and do a chest bump.
A chest bump with my chest which has grown exponentially in size. Joy! Since hey, hey, hey, I’ve got boobs. Sad! Since boobs are just fat repositories and yet haven’t gone completely pessimistic when I say, at least the fat is going to my boos and not giving me cankles. So, it appears that there is at least a sliver of light peaking through at the end of this long, dark and ultimately depressing tunnel o’ fat.
Run for cover
“Everyone who has run knows that its most important value is in removing tension and allowing a release from whatever other cares the day may bring.” ~Jimmy Carter
WARNING: EXTREME NARCISSISM AHEAD.
Poor planning on my part is what led to three 5Ks in three weeks. It also led to a reduction in my Spongebob Squarepants body shape and an ability to breathe while wearing pants again. It did nothing for the tear inducing foot pain but it I did end up shaving 6 minutes and 7 seconds off of my overall time. I’m nowhere near my personal best and I fear that by announcing this to the public at large my friend Bill, the super marathoner, will woo me with GSM and then be all, “By the way, after you finish that bottle, we’re running 7.5 mils in the morning!” and then he might be missing an important appendage.
I honestly couldn’t have gotten through dragging my large ass up some mini-hills without music. Music is what fills the soul. Music is what people turn to when there aren’t enough words. Music is also good at preventing me from dick punching* those assholes who finish the 5K in 18 minutes and then decide the taunt the rest of us by running back through the course. Music saves lives.
Here are my most favorite songs to run to and I’m about to download Rump Shaker because if someone telling you, “I’m feelin’ manly and your shaker’s comin’ in handy” doesn’t get your ass moving then I don’t know what will:
1) Groove is in the Heart – Deee Lite
2) Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See – Busta Rhymes
3) Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen
4) It’s Me Bitches – Swizz Beatz
5) Ms. New Booty – Bubba Sparxx
6) Temperature – Sean Paul
7) Tambourine – Eve
9) Mr. Brightside – The Killers
10) Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas
*I got that phrase from Linda. She makes my potty mouth that much more vulgar.