Maybe I eat too much Mexican food. Is that possible? Mexican food is awesome. Last night my husband and I went to a Mexican restaurant. It’s hard to find wheat/milk/soy free food. Avoiding soy is pretty easy, but avoiding wheat and milk is harder. Everything is smothered in yummy cheeses and sour cream. And most of my favorites are wrapped in wheat tortillas. But I was able to find something on the menu that I can control what I ate. I enjoyed chicken fajitas and a few bites of my husband’s tamale. My down fall is always the chips they leave on the table while you wait for the “real” food to be brought to the table. It’s so easy to go “calorie overboard”! When we got home and I added it all up I realized that this was a problem. I really need to get this favorite eating pass time under control. Maybe the next time we eat Mexican I’ll ask them to only bring ½ of the chips… or better yet, ask them not to bring them at all.
I’ve spent the past week with an aching ankle and foot. It has put a major cramp on my exercise. And it’s increased my desire to actually get off my butt and exercise. It’s true that you don’t know what you are missing until it’s gone. I was dragging my feet about exercise and frankly had been doing a lousy job get exercise into every day. But pain and a decided lack of exercise has made me appreciate the fact that I can move and I’m looking forward being able to back to a walk here and there and an occasional evening bike ride.
As a lifetime “fat lady”, I understand the role I sometimes unknowingly play as the center of local entertainment. I admit it. I am rather paranoid and self conscious of others watching me squeeze into small spaces (like the table at the Mexican restaurant that my husband had to move so I could squeeze in – yes I noticed he moved it nonchalantly before I tried to sit). I’m the fat lady trying to tie my shoes (using a chair or a stool to assist me in getting to my laces), or the fat lady trying to squeeze through the turnstile (Now that is embarrassing needing to lift up your girth to get through one of those blasted things)!
Well, the fat lady is ready to sing!
I’m tired of wondering if being the fat lady provides some humor to strangers around me. The real humor is that these naive people seem to think that “fat lady” doesn’t know they’re getting a kick out of watching her try to pick up that pencil she just dropped. Hello?! Trust me. The “fat lady” knows she’s providing entertainment on some low level. What’s worse are the few “fat ladies” who really don’t care what anyone thinks. The evidence? They like to squeeze themselves into mini-skirts and tank tops or wear clothes four sizes too small. Not me! The looser and comfier the better!
I’ve always been aware of eyes that might stare. I need to care enough to do anything about it. I am working on it. Definitely a work in progress. I’ve spent my entire “fat lady” career trying to avoid situations where I’m the spontaneous circus side show. I even avoid the stage because although I have pipes I really don’t like being the center of attention due to the rolls.
So I decided to get on my bike more often. In fact, I am making a goal to take my bike for a spin every day next week. Please feel free to check up on me. I figure a bike may help me get exercise while my ankle is hurting me. While riding my bike I am really out of my comfort zone. A “fat lady” on a bike is unscripted comedy waiting to happen between the tipping over and rear end folding over the bike seat. As I remember, I’ve never been very good at riding a bike and I have the scars to prove it.
Besides, I really don’t think that bike seats were designed with me in mind. I fear that within five minutes of pedaling I will feel the burn in my legs. (Remember, I hate pain).So tomorrow I will go for a slow family ride and Monday I will blast “I Gotta Feelin’” in my earbuds and enjoy the burn and I try to keep up with my 7 year old! I will envision fat cell melting away from that burn, magically dissolving ounce by ounce… “like butta”.
I guess I am realizing something. I’m not saying that people don’t get a laugh at a struggling lady every now and then. I know they do. But maybe, just maybe I have always amplified that laughter in my own mind, making it feel ten times worse than it ever is. I guess what we perceive to be the most embarrassing circumstances most often blown way out of proportion after they’re filtered through our insecurities. Most likely I’m not making any sense, but that is ok. The lesson was for me anyway.
As for today… I ate watermelon and a few nuts for breakfast… visited an elderly lady and massaged her feet… cleaned house… worked on Seminary… ate 3 turkey dogs (no bun) and ketchup for lunch ( not good, but it was all I had in the house)… made a shopping list… went to the store (my ankle was feeling real good since I whacked it getting into the car last night until my daughter ran into it at the store with the full grocery cart)… nursed my foot while my daughter and her boyfriend made a burger dinner for my son’s birthday… snacked on a few Smarties and Reese’s (I know… I caved)… ate a burger on tapioca bread with a few potato chips and a little potato salad… skipped ice cream and cake in loo of a homemade Italian sugar free vanilla soda… and then spent the evening blogging. Not a stellar day… but not dismal either.
I’m hoping I really do get my act together soon because I’m ready to SING!