Last week, when I RTFd (Random Thought Friday–not to be confused with Random THOT Friday, a completely different thing) about losing 3 pounds in my kankles, my dear cousin emailed me a very sweet and uplifting note about how proud I should be for losing any weight at all and how hard it is to lose weight and to hang in there and stick with it. I would have gladly heeded her words, had I not already regained the three pounds by going to a birthday party. Side note: someone advised the correct spelling is cankle, calf to ankle. In my case, it goes knee to ankle, so the spelling as kankle is correct.
Anyhoo… You read that correctly. The weight it took six weeks to lose showed back up on my scale after ONE not-so-healthy food-related event. (Yes, I know I’m yelling.) How bitter am I? I’m sure you have an idea. Unless you are in the minority of people who are underweight instead of overweight. Then you should be eating a cookie instead of reading this anyway. Side note #2: the weight regain did inspire me to throw out the leftover party chips. Shortly thereafter, I came to my senses and it took everything in me not to George Costanza them.
Here’s the problem with trying to lose weight: food tastes good. At least the food I shouldn’t be eating does. The food I should be eating tastes like dirt. Literally. If anyone says a brussel sprout tastes good, it’s because: a. they are high, b. they are insane, c. they are eating it cooked with bacon, or d. all of the above. A brussel sprout eaten au naturel tastes like dirt. Ditto kale. Which reminds me, can we be done with the kale already? Move on to the next fake super food, please. And don’t make it brussel sprouts. Just sayin.
Potato chips taste good. Cheese tastes good. Cake tastes like heaven, especially with lots and lots of icing. You can make anything taste good by adding bacon. Or cheese. See above. When you eat a cookie, it’s like little angels come down from heaven and bless your belly. Know what doesn’t feel like angel blessings? Exercise.
I’ve touched upon this before, but it bears repeating. Exercise is of the devil. Not all exercise, just exercise for exercise sake. You know, the kind you have to go to a gymnasium or fill your basement full of (unused) equipment to do. Inside my head, the only reason a human should run is because she is being chased by a bear. I get plenty of exercise walking the dog and loading and unloading the dishwasher. Sadly, my doctor says that doesn’t count.
To put it politely, my doctor is disappointed in my lifestyle choices. This is why I am back on cholesterol medication. She, along with Spike Lee, recognizes that it is difficult to do the right thing. However, I have been advised that my bad cholesterol is at a level where something must be done lest my heart explode before I finish this sentence. She also recognizes that not everyone enjoys exercise, but when I went on a rant about how much I hate it and even the exercise I like (Zumba and running) I still can’t force myself to do and when I actually go to the gym or do some sort of cardio everyone says I’ll feel better when I’m done but I don’t I just feel worse and angry and filled with exercise hatred and then asked ‘’Is that weird?” Her response was, “A little bit.”
So there you have it. I took my new Zetia prescription and went to Walmart. Where I had to walk past an estimated 900 miles of St. Patrick’s Day cupcakes and cookies to make it to the pharmacy to get said prescription filled.
At this point, I’d like to add that Oprah Winfrey has all the money and the world, and she is still fat. She could pay someone to snatch the cake out of her hand or claw it out of her mouth like I used to do with dead rats and birds in Molly’s mouth. She could pay a bear to chase her. She could pay her doctor to tell her that it’s not weird to hate exercise so much that you want to punch anyone who talks about enjoying it. But no. Oprah has joined Weight Watchers. All the money and the world, and this is her only hope to lose weight. Wonder if she is doing it on line or going to meetings?
My point is this: if Oprah can’t stop being fat with all the help money can buy, what chance do I have? You should ponder that while I go eat some chips…