These words actually came out of my mouth the other day: “Oh shit…am I skinny fat?!?!?!”
That’s right. Skinny fat. I fear that this describes me perfectly. According the the article, skinny fat is someone who “is thin and looks great in clothes but is all flabby underneath.” Yup. That would be me. Apparently I’m at just as great a risk of heart attack, stroke, diabetes and all of those fun, delightful medical crapfests as someone who is obese because I sit around on my ass and eat cheese instead of, you know, doing anything remotely resembling exercise.
Now, the article is actually saying that “skinny fat” is a load of bullshit, but it also says please, for the love of God, you must exercise. And to that, I say I KNOW. I know I should exercise. I really do! I worry about my poor, sluggish heart, covered in dairy products and salt, resting at about 3986450978 beats per minute because if it didn’t, it would atrophy. I’m aware that it’s bad for me – really! I also know that I always feel way better after I exercise for even just 20 minutes a day.
And yet, my mind likes to play a game with me called “Exercise Or…”
Exercise Or is a fun game. It’s a daily battle between what I know I should do and what I’d rather do instead! Here are some versions:
I could exercise…or I could read celebrity gossip sites for 2 hours. Or Pinterest!! I haven’t pinned anything in days.
I could exercise…or I could sleep on my couch for an hour before bed.
I could exercise….or I could watch this episode of 30 Rock for the 19th time. It’s my favorite.
I could exercise…or I could eat these freaking delicious cookies that I made.
I could exercise…or I could sleep on my couch for an hour before bed. (I’m really tired!)
Sometimes the reasons are way better, like – I could exercise or I could run errands, or talk to my husband, or make dinner at 7pm after I’ve done all the errands I need to do and right before I start working again in an hour, or NOT have my husband watching my awkward ass as I Zumba around the living room. At any rate, it all adds up to me neglecting my flab. Again.
Actually, this isn’t about exercise at all. I’m wrapped up in one giant conversation about time. I don’t think I have the time for everything in the day. I get tired and that means the day is over – this is usually around 9:30, mind you – and that’s the end of it. I have nothing against exercise – I like it, really – I used to do it all the time in college when I wasn’t worried so much about getting up in the morning for work.
The only way to get over it is going to be to do it because I said I would do it. Exercise every day because I said I would. I haven’t really locked into a regimen before (Exercise Or is WAY more fun)…I’ve certainly said shit like “YEAH, every day, exercise machine, WOO!” – but I’ve never meant it.
Well let’s try meaning it for once, shall we? Skinny fat be damned.