I think I can

My turtle is purposely challenging me. Perhaps, I think, he has it in for me. I think he is showing me up. I have done a total of one work out since I decided to begin my fitness regimen…and that workout totaled fifteen minutes of exercise and forty-five minutes of trying to get my face to not look beat-lobster-red. I can whine and complain about all the time-consuming events that occurred since my last workout, but – fact of the matter is – I didn’t work out…bottom line.

 

On the other hand – ever since I discovered this really cool water filtration rock for reptiles – my aquatic turtle, Filburt-Sebastian, has been plugging away at that rock. On his first day, it took him (almost) the entire day to climb up that ginormous rock. I was very tempted to step in and take Filburt-Sebastian off of the rock – for fear of him hurting himself – but, he peaked my curiosity, I wanted to see where he was going with his hiking trip. As days passed, Filburt-Sebastian worked harder and harder. Every morning, I would find him ploughing away. It was almost like “The Little Train that Could;” actually, it was exactly like “The Little Train that Could.” Before I knew it, that little sucker was taking two to three trips up and down that mountain each day.

 

Now, he greets me daily atop his rock – basking in all his glory – mocking me.

I think I like my dog, Apollo, even more now…

…hike your way back May 1st.

What not to tell a fatty

Because I had worked in the health industry – oh, the irony – for a while…I’ve discovered many things. I’ve learned how easily people are willing to share fitness advice with a fatty…even if they are wrong. I have also figured out that anyone feels free to comment on one’s grocery cart and give nutritional advice. Then, of course, the ultimate lesson…a fatty’s worst critic is a former fatty.

Despite these “lessons for a fatty,” I have some lessons to share of my own. I will dispense these lessons not to fellow fatties – for, they already have learned them – but to fellow critics.

Yes, I do realize that fad diets don’t work. I’ve probably tried them all.

Yes, I know it shouldn’t be called a diet…it’s a “lifestyle change.”

My collection of fitness videos, probably, out-numbers any fitness library’s collection. So, I know how important exercise is for the body.

In my goal to accept myself as who I am, I have purchased enough self-help books to qualify for a doctorate’s in counseling.

Every body is different…what works for one body may not work for the other.

Everybody is different…what works for one may not work for the other.

By the way…did you get the previous two? Take a minute. Okay, minute over, moving on…

The final lesson for my critics…I love who I am. I can change my weight, but you will always be a close-minded critic. Deal with it. I’m off to enjoy my life.

…enjoy your lives and I will see you April 30th.

Overweight Names

I love the word “fatty.” I love the way it rolls off your tongue. I love how one can make it sound as if it is some morbid type of cariño or some jerk can make it an insult. I choose to see it as a cariño. I like to think that I am deserving of the “fatty” cariño.

When I worked at Curves, we had to do body compositions for the members on their first visit and every month afterwards. Most members had a high amount of body fat. I had to find many different ways of kindly telling a member how much weight she should lose…as if they hadn’t already known. Many of them would say, “I’m fat.”

The irony of my likes and dislikes? How can I love the word “fatty” and, yet, cringe at the word “fat.” As part of the Curves team, the members and I would come up with so many different ways to call ourselves overweight…

Fat
Fatty
Fluffy
Full of Love
Overflowing with Love
Extra Love
Big
Chunky
Chunk-a-roonie
Chunkers
Exra-Insulated

Hmm, we use to have a lot of cute funny names. In the end, it all meant the same thing.
We are overweight.

I like “fatty,” though. Perhaps, I should stay overweight; so, I could keep the name “fatty.” Ha, ha. Only kidding, guys and dolls.

…hope to see all of you cariñosos April 20th.

Diary of a Fatty Slimdown

Yes, I know, I know. How many people share their stories of dieting and exercise? I’m no different than Shaniqua or Bob from down the street. Yet, I have given in and making my struggles public in the hopes that I will make myself feel obligated to lose the weight. I have no idea if this will work, but I know that I will soon find out.

I have struggled with my weight from childhood. Coming from a Mexican, overeating family…we share our love through food. Heck, we share every emotion through food. We offer guests food. When we are guests, we are polite and accept food offerings. Long story short, food has always been in my life.

In high school, I found that minimizing my eating to one meal a day – or none at all – helped my weight loss. I went from a size eighteen to a size eight in less than one semester and felt fabulous. However, with time and stress, I piled it back on.

By the time I hit college, I tried several ways of keeping my weight down. One way was traditional bulimia…binge and purge. I enjoyed every food and then some, but didn’t have the consequences of eating too much. When I grew tired of that, I exercised six to seven hours a day to make up for my one or two meals I ate. You can’t live life like this, as I learned.

So, I worked on myself. I worked on accepting myself as I am…an overabundance of joy. I worked on not focusing on vanity and focusing on the quality of the person. I, for the most part, feel that I have achieved that.

Now, here I am, at twenty-nine years of age and knees cracking – I’ve always had weak knees – and, at times, finding that I need to catch my breath. This is not the way to live and, if I don’t do something about it, I will only get worse with age. Plus, it will only get more difficult to lose weight with age.

So, my darlings, will you care to join me in my last ditch effort of losing weight? Would you like to come along for the ride?

…no foolies…come back April 10th.