They say you should never apologize for who you really are. But that's not true. As the nation becomes increasingly over weight I feel the need to apologize all the time because I’ve been slim my entire life.
I’ve never dieted. I’ve never purposely had low fat, no fat anything. I tried yogurt once. I had to have a milkshake immediately afterwards to cleanse my pallet and restore my faith in dairy products. I’ve never counted calories. Is it anything like counting sheep?
I was cast in a commercial for Lean Cuisine, the healthy frozen food dinners, and my friends were furious. "You skinny, Bitch!" they said with love. "You’ve never had to eat Lean Cuisine!" I know and I’m sorry.
I’ve never seriously belonged to a gym. Oh, I joined one, but it was a misguided attempt to be romantic. My husband goes to the gym so I thought I’d join and hang out with him, but my heart wasn’t in it. The gym, not my husband. He goes to work out. I go to chit chat. I guess we’ll stick to dinner and a movie.
I should have known better. I hated gym class in high school. I wasn’t very athletic, and thought sweating in public was not only undignified but impractical. If it took me an hour and a half to get ready for school in the morning, why did I only get five minutes after gym to shower, change and go to my next class? I mean really, is a whole hour of softball absolutely necessary?
Being naturally slim does have drawbacks. I was a bridesmaid in a lot of weddings because I could fit whatever god awful dress the bride picked out. Lucky me. I know it was about the dress and not true friendship because these same women never asked me to be a god mother to their children or a character witness at their divorce proceedings. I’m just a photo op friend.
Being slim does not automatically mean you’re in shape. That's a myth that doesn't take into account if you’ve got tone, strength or flexibility. But the outwardly svelte are openly ridiculed, god forbid, we decide to eat right and exercise. I’m not sure why, perhaps it smacks of showing off. People think, "How dare you want to be slim and healthy! That’s just selfish." There’s more support for the people who are trying to lose 20 pounds than for the people who are trying to prevent the pound pile up in the first place.
That’s why I don't tell a lot of people that I practice mixed martial arts to keep in shape. I've come a long way from my high school gym days, and it’s been great. But recently. My school announced it’s annual 90-Day Fitness Challenge; a combination of training and eating right. I wasn’t exactly eating wrong, but let’s just say if there’s a cure for bacon, I don’t want it.
I looked over the list of foods to avoid and panicked. No pasta? I live on spaghetti, linguini, angel hair, ziti and bow ties. Yum. I had no idea it was bad for me. Somebody should tell the Italians. Bread’s bad too. According to nutritionists, it's the work of the devil. Okay, add white bread to Satan's resume. Somewhere in the Vatican archives is a Da Vinci of the Devil in an apron and a chef's hat, baking up a batch of bread.
Sugar’s on the list. I expected that. Sugar is my down fall. My favorite fix of the moment is the Dunkin Donuts white hot chocolate. I'm blissfully addicted. One per day with whipped cream on top? Yes, please, and make it a double. But, God help me, I’ve given it up for the 90-day challenge.
In a white hot chocolate deprived fantasy, the president of Dunkin Donuts calls me and offers to personally bring me an extra large cup. That’s because my selfish desire to actively be in good shape could very well bring about the ruination of this hither to successful donut franchise: declining sales, plummeting stock price, world markets descending into chaos.
And so, once again, I’m sorry.
I’ve never dieted. I’ve never purposely had low fat, no fat anything. I tried yogurt once. I had to have a milkshake immediately afterwards to cleanse my pallet and restore my faith in dairy products. I’ve never counted calories. Is it anything like counting sheep?
I was cast in a commercial for Lean Cuisine, the healthy frozen food dinners, and my friends were furious. "You skinny, Bitch!" they said with love. "You’ve never had to eat Lean Cuisine!" I know and I’m sorry.
I’ve never seriously belonged to a gym. Oh, I joined one, but it was a misguided attempt to be romantic. My husband goes to the gym so I thought I’d join and hang out with him, but my heart wasn’t in it. The gym, not my husband. He goes to work out. I go to chit chat. I guess we’ll stick to dinner and a movie.
I should have known better. I hated gym class in high school. I wasn’t very athletic, and thought sweating in public was not only undignified but impractical. If it took me an hour and a half to get ready for school in the morning, why did I only get five minutes after gym to shower, change and go to my next class? I mean really, is a whole hour of softball absolutely necessary?
Being naturally slim does have drawbacks. I was a bridesmaid in a lot of weddings because I could fit whatever god awful dress the bride picked out. Lucky me. I know it was about the dress and not true friendship because these same women never asked me to be a god mother to their children or a character witness at their divorce proceedings. I’m just a photo op friend.
Being slim does not automatically mean you’re in shape. That's a myth that doesn't take into account if you’ve got tone, strength or flexibility. But the outwardly svelte are openly ridiculed, god forbid, we decide to eat right and exercise. I’m not sure why, perhaps it smacks of showing off. People think, "How dare you want to be slim and healthy! That’s just selfish." There’s more support for the people who are trying to lose 20 pounds than for the people who are trying to prevent the pound pile up in the first place.
That’s why I don't tell a lot of people that I practice mixed martial arts to keep in shape. I've come a long way from my high school gym days, and it’s been great. But recently. My school announced it’s annual 90-Day Fitness Challenge; a combination of training and eating right. I wasn’t exactly eating wrong, but let’s just say if there’s a cure for bacon, I don’t want it.
I looked over the list of foods to avoid and panicked. No pasta? I live on spaghetti, linguini, angel hair, ziti and bow ties. Yum. I had no idea it was bad for me. Somebody should tell the Italians. Bread’s bad too. According to nutritionists, it's the work of the devil. Okay, add white bread to Satan's resume. Somewhere in the Vatican archives is a Da Vinci of the Devil in an apron and a chef's hat, baking up a batch of bread.
Sugar’s on the list. I expected that. Sugar is my down fall. My favorite fix of the moment is the Dunkin Donuts white hot chocolate. I'm blissfully addicted. One per day with whipped cream on top? Yes, please, and make it a double. But, God help me, I’ve given it up for the 90-day challenge.
In a white hot chocolate deprived fantasy, the president of Dunkin Donuts calls me and offers to personally bring me an extra large cup. That’s because my selfish desire to actively be in good shape could very well bring about the ruination of this hither to successful donut franchise: declining sales, plummeting stock price, world markets descending into chaos.
And so, once again, I’m sorry.
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