Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Am I Fat?

Hmmm, let's see...how many times has one of your friends asked you that in your lifetime. Better yet, how many times have you asked someone that question? I am a very lucky person in that my friends can be honest with me and me with them. If something is unflattering we say things like, "Hmmm, those are okay, but I liked the other pair better, they make your a** look fabulous" or "You know, I'm really not sure about that color, let's go see if they have something else" even "Dude, no, take them off." Not everyone has friends like this, I'm blessed.

Now, I wish my clothes could talk and tell me things like my friends would. As some of you know, and now the rest of you will, I have been in a walking cast, or a boot, for 7 weeks now. This was supposed to be my last week, but I'm really sick of it and I decided that my stress fracture has healed and it was time to exercise once more. I hurt myself while training for and running a half marathon in January. The stress fracture started about 2-3 weeks before the race and I knew that there was something wrong. However, being me, I decided to ignore the pain. Hey, I was SO close to the race and I HAD to finish. I ran on the bad leg, I finished the race, I couldn't walk for a week...and then was put into this boot. I could have done weights and crunches while I was in the boot, but I opted for the self-loathing path...the one with least resistance, the one that MADE me eat ice cream by the pint and Mexican food like it was going out of style. Anyway...back to the clothes.

This past Saturday was my first day back to exercise. I walked for an hour...whoohoo...and wore one of my new running skirts. The skirt was a little snug at the waist line, but I figured, well, it's new and I haven't worn it before. Fine. Then this morning I met The Democrat, who is my current exercise partner, at 6am for a 30 min walk. I put out my clothes last night, a cute pair of long running pants that have a skirt attached (Yes, I'm in to this new skirt thing, it's flattering and makes me feel girly) and a long sleeved white Nike shirt, oh and a short sleeved Nike shirt for afterwards when I was going to train with Trainer at the gym. Well, I got up...pulled on my clothes, put on my shoes and was thinking...huh, these pants are a little snug. Hmmm....I did remember that they do fit snugly, but I remembered that the skirt was CUTE and kind of flipped up in the right spots to make it flattering. But, it wasn't doing this now.

By the time I drove over to meet The Democrat I was over it. Fine, I need to drop some poundage in the thigh area, it's okay, I'm staring over again...etc, etc. Plus it was super dark out and you really couldn't see. :) After our walk and talk I drove over to the gym to meet Trainer for my weights workout. Now, this is my first lifting workout since our Christmas vacation. I know, I couldn't believe it either...what a slacker I am! Anyway, I get to the gym and changed shirts. Now my short sleeved shirt is a little longer, but it's a little more fitted then the long sleeve. I wanted the longer shirt just in case Trainer had me do some exercises where my shirt would ride up. No...not like our Saturday 'exercise'...these would be actual IN THE GYM exercises...sheesh people...heads in the gutter. I went to the restroom before I started and of course glimpsed at myself in the mirror. O-M-G...WHY didn't my pants tell me that I'd lost all my muscle tone? WHY didn't my shirt tell me that it was going to cling to the tiny roll that was hanging over the too snug pants?? WHY oh WHY? I had no choice but to do my workout in my ill fitting clothes and I was constantly reminded as there are freaking mirrors everywhere in the gym. Trainer was sweet and said that I looked sporty. Code for - not hot, but coordinated. Ah well...at least I was at the gym right?

What is the moral of this story? Can you all figure it out? Well, I'll help you. The moral of this story is that you don't need to ask if you are fat, you're not fat. Your clothes are actually sneaky creatures that start to take a different form if they are ignored for too long, so take them out every now and then and say sweet things or buy some new clothes.


The Sports Mama said...


Can you imagine me whispering sweet nothings to my clothes?

Somehow, I'm not sure it would help. ;)

Sexy Hippy (why not?!) said...

Now I have this fabulous visual of you in your workout pants with a cute little flippy skirt! Knock 'em dead, Rockin Austin!

Yoga Babe said...

It's not your clothes that you get you to the top of the mountain. Tell your clothes to eff off and save the sweet nothings for your soul.

Athleta = Bastards