Its happened again yesterday. My bi-annual panic attack about the atrocious amounts of flab that have collected in unmentionable and undesirable parts of my body. The timing is impeccable. June. Monsoon. When everything is altogether slow, wet, and sticky, making exercise a near-impossible feat. This time around I have the added disadvantage of having to resort to rice-based meals (eaten as if it were my last day to eat anything. Ever), eating out a lot (every time I work late. Which, if you have been following this blog, you’d know is a lot), and general decadence (to make me feel better on a particularly tiring and stressful day), to combat how busy life has become. It’s a joke. I live in Goa, I live to live, I live for the moment. And Im swamped with work. And somewhere in the midst of all this chaos Im getting fatter. By the day.
Iv ignored it for a few months now. But there’s always that one “o fuck” moment, when it suddenly dawns on you just how much you’ve grown. When you feel the fat inch outwards. Your pants get tighter, then the slight lovehandles begin to show. And you hide them in loose clothes, pretending that wheat the world cant see, you wont feel bad about either. And pretty soon the day comes when you shove that favourite pair of jeans into a dark corner of your cupboard, telling yourself “Not until Im thin enough for them again.” How soon that darned day comes, I leave entirely to guess work. That would also explain the number of forgotten garments hidden away in the back of my cupboard. Ptthooeey.
For months now Iv been telling myself I must make time in the morning, just 45 minutes will do, for a start. But the weather! The late nights! The reading, the staying up late! The laziness! It just makes it so hard to open my eyes and get my unshapely body moving. Its time to get that butt (a very large one, at that) going. Before it begins to look like its big enough to fit 2 large suitcases.
Monday, will be a new beginning. Or so I hope.
Adiposedly Challenged hAAthi