i call this blog "why i am not destined to exercise". or, "warning signs that i might be a lush".
so as i've been bitching about for the better part of a year, i put on a little weight. depending on what time of the month it is, it's somewhere between 15 and 20 pounds. everyone tells me that they can't really tell the difference, maybe a little pudge around the middle... but i think my friends are just being the nice people that they are. (my mother, on the other hand, had no qualms telling me that i "got a little hippy".)
there's a number of reasons why this is the case. for one, i met a boy, and i haz a happy.
i'm almost 30, and my metabolism has surely slowed down some.
my everpresent anxiety has relegated itself to the random anxiety attack once every few months, so i have an appetite again.
i quit the diner, i quit going out dancing once a week, and i got lazy and started driving to a lot of places that i used to walk to.
i work a lot, so i'm too tired at night to do more than laze around.
oh, and having a roommate with a penchant for junk food doesn't help, but i am certainly not going to blame derceto for my lack of willpower around the double stuf oreos.
in any case, when i look in the mirror, i see it. my ass has gotten puckery, my belly sticks out, my chin is rapidly disappearing, my clothes don't fit as well as they used to, and for the first time in my life, i have tits. (round, bouncy, jiggly tits. haha okay, that part is pretty awesome.)quite simply, i'm no longer comfortable with my weight.
so while my plus size girlfriends are rolling their eyes at me behind my back (and i know they are!), i've been pondering ways to get back in shape. because let's face it, i can't get by with just being a little more active again. i have to learn to exercise, god help us all.
i tried curves once. the workout wasn't bad, but i plateaued quickly. plus the god-awful music combined with the old ladies and conservative suburban housewives constantly looking down their noses at me was enough for me.
i also took a couple of beginners ballet classes a few years ago, and quickly discovered that i am neither flexible nor coordinated. so while the rest of the class was silently pliee-ing and jetee-ing across the room gracefully, i was plodding along behind them, sweating and flapping and thumping like one of the ballerina hippos from fantasia. it reminded me way too much of that time in 5th grade when i lost the backwards race in Field Day, with the entire school laughing at me as i kept losing my balance and falling onto my ass. backwards.
because falling onto your face forwards isn't bad enough.
anyway. after a long day at work yanking at the back of my pants to keep my backflab from hanging over my jeans, in full view of the whole shop, i came home motivated. i cooked a healthy dinner, did the dishes, then changed into yoga pants and got on youtube to see if i could find some sort of beginner level, low impact, easy peasy cardio videos to get me started.
first up: the crazy russian broad. she had on a sports bra and spandex pants, and had an abdomen that rippled like a gladiator. her big advice was "go as hard and as fast as you can". she started with some sort of crazy leg move that would likely cause me to pull a hammie, so i decided maybe i should look for something easier.
so i found a billy blanks intro to tae bo video. okay, this seems more my speed. side to side, tap your heels together, punch the air. i got the hang of this. then i realized it was just the warm up, as mr blanks suddenly broke out into a boxing frenzy, twisting and kicking and punching and screaming "FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT!!!" i tried desperately to keep up, almost kneed myself in the face, and finally gave up when i realized i was only a third of the way into the second video and woefully lost.
*panting*
then i remembered, once upon a time, i'd heard of this wacky new dance workout called zumba. i look it up... and i couldn't do it. they showed three simple moves, and goddamn if i was lost on the second move. latin women are clearly from another realm of reality. i just can't move my body like that. coordinating the hips with the feet and the arms and then SMILING the entire time... i was mystified! harpies! yeah, zumba looks like a fucking blast. but i suspect i could only participate if i slowed it down like 60%, rendering the aerobic benefits essentially useless.
so i thought about it some more... what physical activity do i enjoy, aside from sex and jumping up from the couch repeatedly during football season? and the answer was simple.
dancing.
so i went to the kitchen. i downed a shot of vodka. i went back into my room, turned off all the lights, put on my qxt's playlist, (peter murphy, blutengel, depeche mode, covenant, etc) lit a cigarette, and danced around my room for half an hour.
clearly there's something wrong with me.
but i broke a sweat. i felt the fucking burn.
and i noticed something. when i dance, i tend to keep my left hand stationary in the air, with my hand forming a gripping motion. turns out all those years of clubbing trained me to not spill my drink on the dance floor while i was pulling that black taffy towards my black heart.
so go ahead. take your tae bo and your zumba, and your ballet classes. i'll take my shitty club music, drink my smirnoff, and save the gatorade for the morning after.
here's to losing weight!
so as i've been bitching about for the better part of a year, i put on a little weight. depending on what time of the month it is, it's somewhere between 15 and 20 pounds. everyone tells me that they can't really tell the difference, maybe a little pudge around the middle... but i think my friends are just being the nice people that they are. (my mother, on the other hand, had no qualms telling me that i "got a little hippy".)
there's a number of reasons why this is the case. for one, i met a boy, and i haz a happy.
i'm almost 30, and my metabolism has surely slowed down some.
my everpresent anxiety has relegated itself to the random anxiety attack once every few months, so i have an appetite again.
i quit the diner, i quit going out dancing once a week, and i got lazy and started driving to a lot of places that i used to walk to.
i work a lot, so i'm too tired at night to do more than laze around.
oh, and having a roommate with a penchant for junk food doesn't help, but i am certainly not going to blame derceto for my lack of willpower around the double stuf oreos.
in any case, when i look in the mirror, i see it. my ass has gotten puckery, my belly sticks out, my chin is rapidly disappearing, my clothes don't fit as well as they used to, and for the first time in my life, i have tits. (round, bouncy, jiggly tits. haha okay, that part is pretty awesome.)quite simply, i'm no longer comfortable with my weight.
so while my plus size girlfriends are rolling their eyes at me behind my back (and i know they are!), i've been pondering ways to get back in shape. because let's face it, i can't get by with just being a little more active again. i have to learn to exercise, god help us all.
i tried curves once. the workout wasn't bad, but i plateaued quickly. plus the god-awful music combined with the old ladies and conservative suburban housewives constantly looking down their noses at me was enough for me.
i also took a couple of beginners ballet classes a few years ago, and quickly discovered that i am neither flexible nor coordinated. so while the rest of the class was silently pliee-ing and jetee-ing across the room gracefully, i was plodding along behind them, sweating and flapping and thumping like one of the ballerina hippos from fantasia. it reminded me way too much of that time in 5th grade when i lost the backwards race in Field Day, with the entire school laughing at me as i kept losing my balance and falling onto my ass. backwards.
because falling onto your face forwards isn't bad enough.
anyway. after a long day at work yanking at the back of my pants to keep my backflab from hanging over my jeans, in full view of the whole shop, i came home motivated. i cooked a healthy dinner, did the dishes, then changed into yoga pants and got on youtube to see if i could find some sort of beginner level, low impact, easy peasy cardio videos to get me started.
first up: the crazy russian broad. she had on a sports bra and spandex pants, and had an abdomen that rippled like a gladiator. her big advice was "go as hard and as fast as you can". she started with some sort of crazy leg move that would likely cause me to pull a hammie, so i decided maybe i should look for something easier.
so i found a billy blanks intro to tae bo video. okay, this seems more my speed. side to side, tap your heels together, punch the air. i got the hang of this. then i realized it was just the warm up, as mr blanks suddenly broke out into a boxing frenzy, twisting and kicking and punching and screaming "FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT!!!" i tried desperately to keep up, almost kneed myself in the face, and finally gave up when i realized i was only a third of the way into the second video and woefully lost.
*panting*
then i remembered, once upon a time, i'd heard of this wacky new dance workout called zumba. i look it up... and i couldn't do it. they showed three simple moves, and goddamn if i was lost on the second move. latin women are clearly from another realm of reality. i just can't move my body like that. coordinating the hips with the feet and the arms and then SMILING the entire time... i was mystified! harpies! yeah, zumba looks like a fucking blast. but i suspect i could only participate if i slowed it down like 60%, rendering the aerobic benefits essentially useless.
so i thought about it some more... what physical activity do i enjoy, aside from sex and jumping up from the couch repeatedly during football season? and the answer was simple.
dancing.
so i went to the kitchen. i downed a shot of vodka. i went back into my room, turned off all the lights, put on my qxt's playlist, (peter murphy, blutengel, depeche mode, covenant, etc) lit a cigarette, and danced around my room for half an hour.
clearly there's something wrong with me.
but i broke a sweat. i felt the fucking burn.
and i noticed something. when i dance, i tend to keep my left hand stationary in the air, with my hand forming a gripping motion. turns out all those years of clubbing trained me to not spill my drink on the dance floor while i was pulling that black taffy towards my black heart.
so go ahead. take your tae bo and your zumba, and your ballet classes. i'll take my shitty club music, drink my smirnoff, and save the gatorade for the morning after.
here's to losing weight!
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
I just decided today I got to start doing something.
I was doing hte 30 day shred (cause it is only 30 minutes), but have a mental block on it.
Maybe I will try dancing.
I actually used to love Richard Simmons sweating to the oldies.