This winter has been a rough one. We have all been trapped inside because of the extreme cold and ice and occasional snowstorm.
But, there has been one saving grace. The weather has allowed me to wear clothes that hide my figure. Long sweaters, boots, coats, scarves, all effectively camouflaging the fact that I am in no way, shape or form ready for summer clothes. The thought of wearing a bathing suit in, like, two months makes me break out in hives.
The most physical activity I have done all winter was clearing off our cars when it snowed. That, and one time in November when I walked face-first into a spider web. That’s it. I have not done a single sit-up, push-up, jumping jack or crunch—unless you count the sound of potato chip—nor have I walked more than the length of Oxford Valley Mall.
I am not proud of myself. I think by writing this I will perhaps cleanse myself of the guilt I feel when George goes to the gym, or Donnie eats nothing but grilled chicken and steamed veggies for a week, or Georgie talks about playing soccer. Or when I look at my besties Kim and Pam, who have barely aged from 1976 and who probably wear the same size they did back then. WHY am I still FRIENDS with these people?
I am very busy. I do crafts at home and sell them online. I work full-time. I take care of our house, cook, clean, write, meet friends for dinner and play games on the computer. In order to start doing some walking (which is my exercise of choice) I would have to rearrange my schedule. I hate that.
I don’t want to do Weight Watchers. All those points you have to count? I can barely balance my checkbook correctly. Plus, you have to go to meetings, and that would cut into my time of doing crafts while eating Hershey’s Kisses. Next.
Jenny Craig? Nutri-System? Nope. Don’t want to eat their food and only their food. Atkins? Isn’t that the one where you can’t eat carbs? To me, that is cruel and inhumane punishment. And the diet pills that “speed up your metabolism.” That’s code for “makes your heart jump out of your chest.” No way. The only time I want my heart to race is if George happens to buy chocolate cannolis.
I don’t expect to have a perfect figure. I never have and I never will and quite frankly, I don’t know many people who do have a perfect figure. But I do want some semblance of a shape, other than that of a slightly overripe pear. Wouldn’t mind a little indentation where normal people have a waistline. I also wouldn’t mind wearing stuff that is even the tiniest bit fitted without feeling like a water balloon.
Just for chuckles, I looked up diets on the internet. Here’s a few of my favorites:
The Wine and Eggs Diet: All you are permitted to let pass your lips are eggs, water, black coffee, and wine.
The Baby Food Diet: All you are allowed to eat is baby food. Fourteen jars a day, to be exact.
The Cookie Diet: You are basically only allowed to eat six cookies and a well-balanced dinner. That is it.
The Lemonade/Master Cleanse Diet: Right off the bat, I think I’d like to eliminate anything with the words “Master Cleanse” in the title. For this gem, you drink a yummy mixture of lemon juice, water, cayenne pepper and maple syrup. How about, NO WAY?
I am an intelligent, mostly coherent woman. I know how to eat right, drink lots of water, stay away from sugar, all that stuff. I also know how to walk, last time I checked. I have to, as Nike puts it, Just Freaking Do It (I added the ‘freaking’ part to their slogan. Sounds tougher that way).
So, as soon as I don’t need ice skates to go around my block, I will start being smart about my weight again. But until then, I’m warning you, there will not be a lot of Hershey’s Kisses available in the township anytime soon.
Ilene Black has been a resident of Ewing for most of her life and lives across the street from her childhood home. She and her husband, George, have two sons, Georgie, 32, and Donnie, 28.
