04 Aug So you’re FAT? Let’s stop complaining about it.
F-A-T. It’s a terrible word, but it’s descriptive. It brings to mind an emotional response as well as a visual one, doesn’t it? People might say, it’s not a politically-correct term, use “BMI limited”, “person of substance” or “gravitationally challenged” …but, basically, you’re fat.
Have no fear, you’re not alone. If you live in United States, you’re probably carrying around more “physical baggage” than debt (maybe). Then again, there are the genetically gifted, the hard working, and the self-disciplined who battle the bulge as well as the die-hard athletes….
Then, there are people like me and maybe you. Active and an athlete for much of our life, now find ourselves middle-aged, and considered “a chubby”, “a muffin toper”, “an emotional eater”…blah, blah. I’m a gardener, active walker, Pilates lover, spin class enthusiast who is finding it hard to squeeze into my fat clothes.
I could go the usual route; try to find blame in others. I would first start with the media and its image of beauty and women, but realistically I don’t recall Katie Couric buying me the $1 Hot Fudge Sundae from McDonald’s last night. I could blame Fast Food Corporations? So obvious, but sadly I don’t recall the food being free or placed in my car by fairies. Could I blame my freakish metabolizing sons who eat whatever they want? Of course, not…that’s just jealousy talking.
So, if I can’t blame media, corporations or my sons…who’s left? There’s GMO’s, low self-esteem, quality of nutrition in livestock, convenience foods, the FDA, organic vs. traditional farming and the demands of our “on the go-go” lifestyle. All really good excuses that diet pill companies and “the newest greatest diet-secret-book” capitalize on. There is a $20 Billion Industry that helps you blame it on everything and everyone from your parents-genetics, your blood type and every shelved product at your local grocery store…. but the real answer…is YOU!
It’s your fault and it’s also my fault. Yep, me, mine, I and MATH. I hate math. Especially when it’s not to my checking or health benefit. I have calculated that I’ve gained about 5 lbs a year x 10 years = 50lbs…Wow, Damn. Do your own math. Sucks don’t it!
Crazy facts: Did you know eating just 100 calories more per day than you use, adds 10 lbs a year on average… um that’s ONE stupid cookie a day (a smallish stupid cookie). Did you know it’s about 10-15 lbs* a pant size (approximately, depending on your body distribution)…yeah, double crap. We consume more than we use….sorta like debt, we are using more than we pay out.
Of course there are variables. I am very familiar with the problems, thyroid disease, knees aching for replacement surgery (I got em), and other challenges for physical movement, and that makes life extra sucky, but still not an excuse to over-consumption. The basic fact I have come to accept is that my consumption controls my waistline. I make the choices, stuff the food in my pie-hole…man, I so love pie… only kind of math I like (PI). PS. I really want a piece of pie right now.
So why is this bitch session noteworthy?
Well I have come to the conclusion, after exploring years of; the cabbage diet, all you can eat meat only diet, eat for your blood type, eat like a Californian, eat like a toddler, fast on/ fast off, cleanse your colon, and just about every fad diet, that you and I have a choice to make.
1. Play the blame game; carbs, preservatives, artificial sweeter, fast-food…see list above and so on….but do it quietly.
OR 2. Play at living – Admit it’s you. Take control, count the calories and burn more calories than you consume. It’s simple math…so are you smarter than a 5th grader?
OR behind DOOR #3: STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT BEING FAT. So you’re FAT? If you don’t want to do anything about it, just accept it, save money for a bigger casket and move on. Buy a bigger size or learn to sew, enjoy your jolliness and acknowledge it’s your choice. On your deathbed, if you think you’d be sad that you said no to a second serving of cheesecake…then eat it. No blaming anyone else, you go girl! Can we stop talking about it? It’s like listening to a broken record “I am so whiny…help me keep whining”.
I think we all know that most of us are FAT, but I am sick of complaining and hearing complaints….since it’s the new All American status quo….just deal with it one way or another…make a choice…but no more whining or finger-pointing, unless it’s to point out a new sushi buffet.
Personally, my choice is Option 2, limp on, drag my sleepy carcass to the healthclub, put up a good fight, keep trying to find my inner athlete or a sport I might actually be good at and sharpen up on my MATH skills. I want to be on my deathbed and think “Damn, I put up a good fight….um…is there any pie left?
The choice is yours.
Peace (of pie)