It all started a few weeks ago when I received an email inviting me to become part of a secret society. This secret society was to promote health and fitness and motivate us to not only lose weight, but to become physically fabulous. It was hard not to catch a bit of the organizer’s enthusiasm; however, when I realized that I was going to have to admit not only my weight, but also my measurements to this secret society, enthusiasm went out the window to make room for common sense.
It is only natural for a woman to protect two things – her age and her weight.
It’s what keeps her a mystery to the opposite sex and I have worked overtime to brainwash my children into thinking I am still in my twenties. My husband gets so confused that he occasionally demands to see my driver’s license. I step on my scale only when I am in a shroud of solitude, and although my husband isn’t delusional, he thinks I weigh my less than my scale. That’s why I married him. Granted he’s not blind enough to think I am Barbie, but he also doesn’t see Mrs. Potato Head when I am draped on his arm.
My doctor once called to schedule me for an MRI and he told them I was a full THIRTY pounds less than truth. That man is immortalized. He will forever be on my Christmas list. I’ve nominated him for doctor of the year.
So imagine my surprise when I discovered that these women wanted numbers and real numbers. I would have bailed, but it was too late. The health and fitness queen is now hot on my trail and checks up on me after I go silent for a few days. I’m silent because my mother told me not to talk with a full mouth. I haven’t seen the little arrow move much on my scale, but I am proud to say that I’ve lost three inches.
I got a hair cut.
Monday I realized that I sabotage my own efforts to slim down. This ‘Aha’ moment came while I was jogging. After popping the fifth peanut M&M into my mouth, I realized that I exercise to eat. Does any clear thinking woman pop M&M’s while jogging? It’s beyond bizarre.
Every quarter block run equals one peanut M&M. I’m sure I saw this in a Weight Watcher’s add.
Now before you think that I am an anomaly, I missed lunch and was absolutely starving. As I walked out the door, I turned to the only thing that was available – my daughter’s bucket of Halloween candy.
Diet Rule #1 Rid your house of your children and their snacks.
They will work as Satan’s tempters asking for things like maccaroni & cheese, ice-cream, and cup-cakes. A hungry woman can only resist so many Oreo cookies.
The worst part of this ‘fitness journey’ is that I’ve lost the 3×5 card that has my beginning measurements in permanent ink. I fully expect it to resurface in the hands of my children, who will be begin reading off body parts and numbers when I have house full of company. I am on the precipice of my worst nightmare becoming reality and I have no power to stop fate. I’ve scoured the house in search of that card and it remains elusive.
If only my fat vanished as easily…
Your ever hungry, but constantly slimming,