The Weighting Game

I don't know why it is. Every new year, there are scads of newcomers in the gym. I'm not sure if these folks are actually New Year resolutioners, or if the first week of January is simply the first chance they get to work off some of the pounds they've gained by eating too much Who hash and Christmas cookies. But if tradition holds, these neophytes will be there only for a few weeks hogging up the machines and clanging down the weights. Then by the Sweetest Day of the year, they will all be gone again, on their ten month hiatus. These folks always intrigue me. They go after their exercise routine with such vigor and intensity, it's like they are punishing themselves. What happens to them the rest of the year?

This year, I will blend in with the old newbies. My plight is similar to theirs in that five months of watching hockey instead of playing it has turned my mid section gooey, and it's time to get back in shape. As you know from my insurance company rant, I had to wait for a new year to continue my formal physical therapy. I've been trying to do my homework regularly, but it's hard for me. I am well-trained athletically (and only athletically I might add) to respond to someone telling me what to do. I've had coaches all my life and the more they yell, the harder I work. It's engraved deep down somewhere in my sports core. Anyway, I just hope I didn't fall too far behind being left to rehab on my own, and I hope it doesn't take too long to get my muscle tone and cardio endurance back.

The subject of weight is obviously one to be wary about. It's like religion and politics - unless speaking to a very close friend, I don't broach the subject unless it's already been broached, and even then, I'm very careful. I wish it weren't such a touchy subject, but I can see why it is. I admit that it's more the female gender that you have to tip toe around. It's not like you can say, "What, you're not pregnant? Oh, well you look like you are. That's why I said, 'congratulations!'"

As for me, I could have used a little honesty before now. The scale hasn't shown that I gained more than a couple pounds, but I can tell by the way my clothes fit that the weight is now distributed in other, less desirable places. What I mean by wishing the topic of weight (especially with women) wasn't so frail is because I really wanted to know if I looked any different... aside from my left leg muscles being these foreign-looking, tiny, wet noodles. Each time I asked about my appearance, urging that I could take the truth, SV met the question with that blank stare as if to say, "I'm not falling for it. Not ever," and then he responded with something nice.

There's no way I was going to fret about having such a sweet boyfriend, but I took the word of my skinny jeans over his all the same.

Now, just because I can't get this song out of my head: