Today was the beginning of the second week of my attempt to join the population of semi-healthy humans. Gyms are the handiwork of the devil. The only thing I look forward to is the abundance of air conditioning. I’m currently taking my relationship with the gym slowly and only committing to the treadmill. Even though I feel like a hamster on a wheel. The scenery never changes and the cage smells vaguely like Satan’s taint.
My weight has been a constant battle for years. It’s easier for me to get fat because of my height– a few bad decisions equal a few gained pounds that I immediately feel. Once I start gaining, I keep gaining because it gets harder and more painful to move.
Before I know it, I’ve gained 50 pounds and even my feet get fat enough that I can’t wear my cute shoes anymore. And that’s a tragedy. I need red suede flats and tan saddle shoes back in my life.
I’ve observed over the years that other little people seem to maintain their weights with really strict portion control. Exercise sometimes isn’t an option because it’s not that physically feasible. The only thing stopping me from exercising is my complete disinterest. I’ve been fortunate that I have had no leg, hip, or back issues that have necessitated any medical intervention.
I’ve tried medically supervised meal replacement diets and Weight Watchers. I’m a belligerent asshole and don’t particularly like when people tell me how to live my life, so any success I had did not last that long.
The only way for me to get unfat again is to commit to a reasonable meal plan and start exercising little by little. Wiser food choices are starting to happen. I’ve eaten enough fruits and vegetables at work lately that a few of my cubicle neighbors have been visibly shocked. I walked 45 minutes on the treadmill today. Ten minutes in, I wanted the building to burn down to the ground. By the time I hit minute 30, I came to terms with reality and sucked it up.
SO PUMPED TO RETURN TO THE YMCA TOMORROW. YES. FITNESS IS FUN. YES.