Oh, body of mine.
I've made a lot of changes in my life in the past few months. I became vegan, moved to a new city, started a new job, got my own place, and gained 512.37 pounds.
All of these changes have been crucial on my journey to becoming a better version of myself. Oh, yeah, all except for that LAST one, which just f-ing SUCKS.
I keep thinking that I don't get it. How on earth can I be getting heftier when I've cut out all the daily cheese and cream sauces from my diet? I no longer stuff myself with dairy products, so why is it that I'm starting to resemble an ample-uddered bovine myself?? What the fuck are they slipping in my daily rice-bean-and-salad concoctions??? Oh my God, THEY must be out to get me. They're fattening me up to slow me down because I'm becoming SO awesome that they see me as a threat. Fucking... bastards.
And then I remember the cups of guacamole I've been dipping my everything in... the vegan cupcakes I've been making out with regularly... the soy vanilla shakes I've been chugging like water in the juice bar at my restaurant... and that even though I'm not drinking as much as a Santa Barbarian, I'm still easily consuming at least a thousand Calories a week from alcohol. It all goes back to that simple equation of Calories consumed vs. Calories spent. You see, the problem is that I have never been good at math. And on top of that, I've never been good at dieting. Which, given the formula, means I need to be really good at exercising. **sharp intake of fearful breath**
So.... Exercise. Yeah.... Well, I walk everywhere, so that's good.... But wait a sec, I've been walking everywhere for seven years now. Sweet Lord in heaven, I don't ever want to think about the albino rhino legs I'd have if it weren't for my car-less endeavors. My problem with exercise is that I'm a quitter. Oooh, and I'm insane. About every two months, I go to the self.com website and select a workout regime. I then spend the rest of the day looking at all the recipes and sportswear and exercise equipment I'll probably be needing in the near future now that I'm a true worker-out-er and leading this different life and everything. For the next two weeks, I'm really excited about this new lifestyle, and the endorphins flooding through me from exercising are magnified ten-fold by the optimism that comes from believing I've turned my life around and will soon be frolicking through the Self magazine pages like all those fit broads in tangerine spandex. I'm so in love with this new way of life that after five minutes of it I truly feel like the weight is just melting off my body. If I could wink, I would wink at my insta-transformed reflection in the mirror. Alas I canNOT wink, so instead I squint and raise an eyebrow and give a cocky thumbs up to that rockin' babe squinting back at me. After five days... fuhgettaboutit. I can no longer even remember that slob body who used to house my brain. I can't even THINK about NOT jetting out first thing in the morning for a run or jaunt to the gym. The horror! If for some reason there is no physical way I can fit an exercise in on a single day, I feel like the equator just got bendy and my whole equilibrium is off. I once saw a comedian perform downtown in Santa Barbara. He said that before embarking on a mission to get in shape and join a gym, he'll psyche himself out with thoughts like, "I only have four hours before work... it'll take me ten minutes to get to the gym... half an hour to work out... then I have to stretch and shower and eat and get ready and THERE'S NO TIME I CAN'T DO IT!" and, "Okay I just have to exercise five times a week for thirty minutes each time. But wait a minute... I don't wanna get TOO in shape... I mean I don't wanna look FREAKISHLY fit...." and on and on and on. I'm paraphrasing his work, but I remember it striking so true within me that I was spitting up on myself from laughing so hard and everyone else started spitting up on themselves out of horror for my overzealous audiencing. Two weeks in to my life-changing go-get-'em routine, the fluke spark of inspiration in my soul dulls and I instantly forget about ambition and attaining personal goals. I go right back to just letting life happen to my body, like it's a blank canvas shoved in an artist's supply cupboard so the only paint to embellish it is accidentally spilled while grabbing that jar of glitter and buttons. This will go on for two months or so, and then my reflection gets sick of itself and uses a sliver of mirror glass to jam that spark back in my brain once again to repeat the two-week cycle.
I've just woken up from my two months of hibernation, so my recent internet history is lit up with self.com shout-outs. It's like the last big piece to the puzzle of me. I just KNOW that if I can figure out how to actually incorporate exercise in to my life in a lasting and healthy relationship... well, it's going to naturally help me to make better and healthier decisions all around. And if I still meet up for a drink with a cupcake after work, at least I will have an actual metabolism to burn it off instead of the dimply sack effect that is happening now-- you can see the shapes of whatever I consume because in true Blob style I have started absorbing food under my skin. I can smack my arm down on a sandwich and ta-da! Instant sandwich-arm!!
Well, here goes. My friend Sara (we call her Mawm cuz she's wise) told me I just need to find something I enjoy doing so that I'll WANT to do it instead of it being a chore. I'm thinking that might mean dancing tribal-style in my living room while intermittently doing Jillian Michaels cardio moves. The only side effect I've seen so far is the whiplash I got two nights ago from trying to share these dance moves with friends and family. Tomorrow morning I'm going to Zumba with my sister Shawnie (unless THEY threaten to kill me if I don't sleep in...) to beef up my tribal dance skills and beef down my hips. I hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hopepheopheopehopehopehoepohepop (dude that's fun) that in two weeks' time I'm not a stranger yet again to the optimistic person who is writing this. Now that I've put this out into the world, maybe it'll be a way to hold me accountable for making a change.... Or maybe I'll bite your head off if you ever ask me if I've been exercising. Nah, you should be fine. Unless your head happens to look like a chocolate vegan cupcake, in which case I'll Blob-swallow it whole. My bad.
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