Fat girl reality check: even when you start to lose weight, things are still out and about. In fact, in some ways it's even worse; because now that there's no fat to hold anything taut, it all just oozes around you like a suit made of vinyl. It sticks, it squeaks, it bunches up underneath your clothes. It is wholly unpleasant. But the very worst part of this skin-vinyl exosuit is the moment when you try to work out. Now ladies, you must suppress your instinct not to wear formfitting clothes in the gym. I know that you think you look terrible all squeezed into this gym pant or those yoga pants or the tight tank top workout bra shirt situation. And you probably do. But guess what is worse? Leaving all of that vinyl, sticky, squeaky, bunchy mess to just run rampant while you're trying to do a Jazzercise routine. I made the mistake of wearing a very loose T-shirt and very loose soccer shorts to work out in one night at home. I start to really ramp up my routine when all of a sudden, I hear applause. I whip around: who could possibly be applauding me? No one is allowed out of their rooms until I am finished. I keep working out, getting more and more enthusiastic about the routine when all of a sudden, there is the lone clapper. Now I am positive it is one of my children, but after a thorough inspection of the area I am all alone. Just me and my…
...Extremely loose by skin slapping together when I do the dance. And not just one fat fan: I have several. The fat on my under arm slaps against the fat on my chest; the fat of my arms flaps together in front of my face, almost knocking me out cold. And let's not forget my all time favorite: the slapping of the stomach fat pad against the upper legs with a sound so clear you could hear it in the next room.
Now, it's become like an episode of Stomp: Jump, wave, thigh clap, shift, another underarm clap clap, wobble shake shake, thighs clap LOUDLY, shimmy, wobble, gross sucking sound, wobble, wobble, clap, clap, shimmy, shimmy, clap of stomach to tops of thighs. Woo! Feelin' SEXY.
But there is a light at the end of the tunnel: and that light is magnified by the shiny fibers of blessed nylon that are going to be used to suck your shit together in a workout outfit.
Long-sleeved shirt? Check.
Spandex yoga pants? Check.
Now we're cinched up and ready to go.
Cue the music, and please, PLEASE hold the applause.
No comments:
Post a Comment