Those would be the Gods of Fat, not corpulent deities.
Aren't you taking this middle-aged metabolism thing just a wee bit too far?
For the last week I have done everything almost perfectly. I have not had one bite of chocolate, nor have I had a beer. I had ONE glass of wine on a night when I couldn't sleep. But other than that I didn't cheat. And even that's not really cheating, is it? Aren't I allowed ONE STINKIN' GLASS OF WINE?
I worked out every day....except Tuesday. But on Saturday I ran/walked in a 5K AND THEN came home and rode my bicycle 29 miles. Shouldn't that counteract the not working out on Tuesday?
I mixed up my exercise. I ran, I walked, I bicycled, I did water aerobics, I did the elliptical. Doing water aerobics caused me to break out in a horrible rash ON ALL MY TENDER PARTS (you're welcome for the visual on THAT one - does anyone out there realize how hard it is to scratch one's NIPPLES? Sorry......) because I'm allergic to chlorine and our podunk YMCA didn't think about .... oh perhaps using a salt system .... when they installed their fancy schmancy new indoor pool. Don't I get bonus points for my pain and suffering? And itching and scratching?
I ate rabbit food all last week. To give myself a treat I sometimes put chicken on it. And I used FAT-FREE DRESSING! Which I abhor! We had a baby shower after school today. You want to know my contribution? A veggie tray.
"Dessert" these days isn't the no-sugar-added low-fat ice cream sandwich that I used to enjoy. Oh no, that would be way too decadent. Now my after-dinner treat is a banana popsicle. I guess I'll have to give up those FORTY CALORIES too.
Because with all my hard work and my diligent attention to what I ate and drank, my reward when I went for my weekly weigh-in last night was:
That's a decimal. And an eight.
Eight tenths of a pound.
Twelve ounces and some change.
If that's to be the rate of my weight loss, I will reach my goal weight sometime around my ninetieth birthday. Why not just die fat at an earlier age? It's really all the same to me.
To make matters worse, did they HAVE to assign a size-zero little twit to do the weigh-ins? Yeah, did they train her to say quite chirpily, "Well it's better than nothing! You lost half a pound!"?
IT'S EIGHT TENTHS OF A POUND, BONEYARD, AND I WANT CREDIT FOR EVERY SINGLE TENTH!!!!
Her advice? Try the exercise of the week: push-ups. Instead I tried MY exercise of the week: a right hook.
Her other tip: Try not drinking sweet tea and sodas next week.
My tip? Try asking me first if I do EITHER OF THOSE THINGS TO START WITH.
Eight tenths of a pound.
Willing to make a deal with the devil for a higher metabolic rate,