I am too fat for my snow pants. Again.
As a lovely example of my contrariness, when everyone else is getting all twitchy about readying their bikini bodies, I’m very busy eating a lot of cheese. Instead, I get all worried about being winter wear ready for ski season, because of these stupid snow pants. I refuse to buy new ones. I will use the ones I have!
This year, I ran a half marathon at the end of March and another at the end of July. Which seems like something that would encourage thinness, I know. But I get all tangled and weird, using these herculean physical endeavors as excuses to have treats. And hamburgers.
And then! After it’s over? Oh, THEN! That dreamy period of sloth we call “recovery.” You’re supposed to do it. Take a little break after you do something so taxing!
Me? A break?
Mmmm. Yeah. Ok. That sounds delightful. I think I need to make some popcorn to go with this recovering.
So Sir Isaac comes along and he’s all “You’re at rest! Stay at rest!”
Next thing I know, it’s been a month since I’ve put on my sneakers.
Twice this year, then, I’ve gone through periods of it’s-ok-to-eat-too-much-cause-I’m-in-training followed by I’ll-start-exercising-again-soon-but-right-now-I’m-in-recovery.
Which means that now I’m fat again and I can’t fit into my snow pants again. (Yeah, this happened last year, too. Not because of the marathons. Just because of natural proclivities for fatness.)
All of which is to say that I’m on the wagon again now and have about 20 pounds to lose before Christmas.
Hence, there should be a “fat tuesday” post every week, while I try to regain my former levels of svelte-like chubbitude that mean I will be able to fit into my size Large snow pants. Because Large is large enough, dag nabbit.
Week 1 -3.4 pounds
margaret edith 