For a while I got away from working out in the mornings. You know, 6:00 comes too early and I got lazy and whatever. But I've been getting up and jumping around again. I don't enjoy it any more than I did before. At least I'm not swearing at Torture Guy as he works out in Hawaii with 3 former fat girls ... and says ... as he is touching these three former fat girls "pull in your stomach." What the heck does that mean? "Pull in your stomach." Where am I supposed to put it? If I had a stomach that was flat and tight, it might pull in. But mine is sort of soft and round. How do you pull in a fluffy belly, and where the heck do you put it. I think you have to have muscle to pull things in. I don't think you can pull fat in. It just sort of mounds up and rolls around when I move. And the other tape I have (yes, it's a tape...I confess) the Skinny Girl in the 80s leotard says "tuck in your butt." What? Is she kidding? She obviously hasn't seen my butt. It's round and soft and sort of going south for the winter, if you know what I mean. How can I tuck it in? It's not like the corners of the sheet when you tuck it in at the bottom of the bed. Where am I supposed to tuck it? And if I pull in my belly and tuck in my butt, do they meet somewhere in the middle?
I never really march or jump. My round parts kind of jiggle around the living room like a bowl of jello. Once I get going, I just have to try and keep up with my wiggly parts. When my feet stop, it takes a minute or so for my butt and belly to stop.
And it's not just my roundest parts that cause me problems. My thighs and upper arms sort of waggle when I'm doing jumping jacks. (I hate jumping jacks). I'm afraid my bat-wing arms might take me airborne if I'm not careful with the waving movements. And you know those skinny ladies with the thighs that don't touch when they walk? I hate them. My thighs are best friends. No space there. If I wore corduroy pants, you could hear me coming from a block away. Swoosh, swoosh. I do not own corduroy pants, by the way.
I am in better shape than I was a year ago. I can do a few sit ups and push ups and I've graduated to 5 pound weights from little water bottles (yes with water in them). Not exactly pumping iron, but an accomplishment for me, I'll tell you. And perhaps, someday, I will have a place to put my gut and butt when Torture Guy and Skinny Girl in the 80s leotard says pull and tuck.
At 6 in the morning, I will be doing my best imitation of a mobile bowl of jello, wobbling from right to left, reaching for heaven while hoping my weight keeps me earthbound. It's really not so bad once I catch the rhythm of the wobble.
