{ round peg, square hole }

There are many things in life that don't fit. Have you ever tried pulling something small over something else that is subsequently larger? You know, like stuffing a king-sized pillow into a doll-sized pillow case. Or putting sheets on your mattress that were clearly marked 'queen' but as you wrestled and bent you fingers in ways that shouldn't ever be attempted {a.k.a. sprain}, you found that they clearly were NOT. Ooooorrrrr . . .

. . . trying to pull on jeans that you knew fit quite well before you washed them. Last week.

As I wrestled with my shrinking clean pants, I misjudged the circumference of my hips. But never fear, after a slew of grunts and wiggles, they made it on. Success!!

Instead of listening to my inner genius, I decided that these were the pants I would wear that day- because of all that work, and the fact that they still fit. Sort of. A little. How was I to know that the 'going up' was the easy part??

I didn't take into account what would happen if I had to pee really, really bad. I should of. Because: as I was dancing around trying to P E E L those jeans off when I had to go really, really badly, I bent my nail in the most peculiar way, breaking it at the sides:

Yep. Hurt like a mother.

After dealing with the emotional trauma that can only come from a broken nail due to large hindquarters, I decided to take drastic measures. I could keep heading towards a life of bent-the-wrong-way-nails, or find a system that would kick my ghetto bootay trash.

I found something:

In. Sane. People. I did the 'fitness test' yesterday. It hurts to cough and sneeze. I didn't know that my back muscles could feel like this. My inner thighs? Huh. I should have known better. It says in the pamphlet that "This is probably the hardest workout put on DVD..." I got a teensy bit scared after reading that. ". . . while you may feel exhausted after each workout, you'll feel like you conquered Mt. Everest." They aren't kidding- you can't breathe on Mt. Everest, and you sure as heck can't breathe after these workouts. Additional suggestions were "For muscle soreness, try ice and/or ibuprofen . . ." And that's when I got really scared. They didn't say IF you get sore muscles. It's like they're PROMISING sore muscles. What did I get myself into? And there is a MASSIVE warning at the beginning of each video. These people are serious. And I'm seriously aching. I have a new best friend:

It gets me thinking . . . is this pain really worth it? Well yes, it will be. But for right now, I find that I can relate to this story:

Recently, in a large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

This Summer Do You Want To Be a Mermaid Or a Whale?

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends {dolphins, sea lions, curious humans}.
They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales.
They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.
They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Barren Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia.
Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CD's.
They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.
They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist.
If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or Human?
They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get too close to them, not to mention how could they have sex? Therefore they don't have kids either. Not to mention, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a W H A L E .

P.S. We are in an age when the media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a piece of chocolate with my friends.

With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't 'heavy', we are enormously cultured, educated and happy.

Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, "Holy Crap! Look how smart I am!".


I must admit I do feel better when I work out. But I think I'll go for a happy medium whale. I will do this...

. . . with lots of this in between . . .

. . . buy these so I don't feel as guilty when I eat the whole bag . . .

. . . and every now and then, enjoy a sweet morsel containing the Holy Trinity of Confection . . .

. . . with my cultured, educated and happy friends.

Have a wonderful Fall Break Weekend!

{Dear FTC- I did NOT get paid by Insanity, Icy Hot, Mr. Redenbacher, Ibuprofen makers, sugar farmers, dairy folks, chocolate connesuirs, or mermaids to mention them on my blog.}

1 post a comment :

Emily Joyce said...

The same thing is happening to my jeans! Maybe the water was too hot when I washed them? ;) My husband (then fiancée) and I used Insanity and stuck with it for almost 30 days, but then wedding planning took over and we didn't have the time, much to my relief!

This week (2/20-26) is National Eating Disorder Awareness week, so I've been featuring several guest posts on the topic, including what "normal" eating looks like. I wish I'd seen this post sooner, but I'll be sharing a link to it in my Sunday blog post :) "We're not heavy, we're enormously cultured, educated, and happy." Too funny!

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