Dear Fat Jesse,
Now that we've established that I'm going to whip you into shape until you finally get it, I think it's only fair that I give you some guidelines. Don't cry, F.J. You'll get used to it. You might even start to like it. Besides, I only have two.
Law #1: Take what people think and Zumba dance (poorly) all over it.
Forget the President being the leader of the free world. I submit for your approval that people really have all the power. Every person on this planet has, at one time or another, refrained from doing something they would love to do because of people. Who are these people? No one really knows. They stay hidden in the shadows until we finally give in and go home because we might look stupid. Then they all come out after we're gone and do all the fun stuff we tried to do...only they do it perfectly.
What's that, F.J.? That doesn't make sense? Well, then explain to me why that kind ofrational thinking has kept me on the sidelines for so long. I have always wanted to run, but don't want people to see my ounces bounce. I am crazy about dancing but, other than a few hilarious videos taken in college, people would never know that.
The bottom line: People might just be a figment of our imagination, F.J. Don't walk away as I get nauseatingly deep, but their opinionated voices might even just be a reel of tape that I recorded in my own head at some point and wrote 'people' all over it. Don't get me wrong, there are some nasty, judgmental people walking this Earth. Some are actually laughing at the fat person on a treadmill. They will text their friends on the stationary bike about how ugly a woman's workout clothes are. People might even be personified in a well-meaning friend who thinks their unsolicited exercise advice is priceless. But here's the truth. Their logic is flawed, not mine. For so long, I've said, "What am I thinking, running at my weight? I must look horrible. What if one of these athletic people is laughing at my form?" What I should have been thinking was, "If anyone at this gym is busy watching me run/dance/lift weights, fat and all, they're obviously not working out that hard themselves." It's impossible to have a challenging workout while worrying about what someone else is doing. That's just science, my friend. Okay, maybe not. But it should be. Fat Jesse, you run. And dance. Do whatever gets you moving. And remember to keep your eyes on your own treadmill so that no one mistakes you for people.
Law #2: The only thing worse than food running your life...is a DIET running your life.
Yes, ma'am, I wrote the word diet in all caps. Because there is something about that word that cries out to be announced. Emphasized. Repeated for all to hear until someone finally buckles, buys the same book, and joins me in the torture. I don't want to think of all the times I've walked into a social situation with a sign around my neck that says I'm on a diet. I'll be watching you eat. And on the occasions that I forgot my sign, the obnoxious Tupperware full of diet food I brought may have given it away for me.
About a month ago, Bennett and I decided to adopt a vegan diet. Although I admit to discovering vegan eating last year while bawling over stories of little piggies being tortured in Skinny B----, we have made the decision that we are doing it for nutritional reasons, not ethical ones. We both still want to go hunting someday. We don't insist on vegan clothing or scour food labels for things like honey or gelatin. All in all, I still believe in the whole "man having dominion over animals" business. I just no longer want them to have dominion over my gallbladder or my husband's arteries. We have chosen this way of living to correct years of unhealthy eating that has inevitably brought on health problems for us. And it just turns out that it's easier on our stomachs, improves my skin, and has made my constant companion for most of last year-gallbladder attacks- stay at bay. Not to mention, in the absence of my raging germaphobia over handling raw meat, I'm actually a pretty rockin' cook. We have found what works for us.
The bottom line, F.J.: The word diet has an entirely different meaning in the U.S. than it does pretty much anywhere else, and it's time to stop buying into it. My--ahem-- diet will be the group of foods that I choose as fuel on a regular basis, for my specific needs. And I trust myself to make some occasional exceptions. Never again will I go to a friend's house and refuse to eat what she's cooking because it isn't on the conveniently compiled list provided in the index of my latest diet book. Write this down, Fat Jesse. Wait, do you have pens in there? Anyway, just remember this: Being able to think on your feet in all kinds of situations--without wearing that sign or bringing that Tupperware--will be the real proof that you can do this for the rest of your life.
That is all the law I have for you today, Fat Jesse. Be forewarned, if you start doing weird things and tripping me up, I may have to write more.
With Love,
New Jesse, -11 lbs.
Now that we've established that I'm going to whip you into shape until you finally get it, I think it's only fair that I give you some guidelines. Don't cry, F.J. You'll get used to it. You might even start to like it. Besides, I only have two.
Law #1: Take what people think and Zumba dance (poorly) all over it.
Forget the President being the leader of the free world. I submit for your approval that people really have all the power. Every person on this planet has, at one time or another, refrained from doing something they would love to do because of people. Who are these people? No one really knows. They stay hidden in the shadows until we finally give in and go home because we might look stupid. Then they all come out after we're gone and do all the fun stuff we tried to do...only they do it perfectly.
What's that, F.J.? That doesn't make sense? Well, then explain to me why that kind of
The bottom line: People might just be a figment of our imagination, F.J. Don't walk away as I get nauseatingly deep, but their opinionated voices might even just be a reel of tape that I recorded in my own head at some point and wrote 'people' all over it. Don't get me wrong, there are some nasty, judgmental people walking this Earth. Some are actually laughing at the fat person on a treadmill. They will text their friends on the stationary bike about how ugly a woman's workout clothes are. People might even be personified in a well-meaning friend who thinks their unsolicited exercise advice is priceless. But here's the truth. Their logic is flawed, not mine. For so long, I've said, "What am I thinking, running at my weight? I must look horrible. What if one of these athletic people is laughing at my form?" What I should have been thinking was, "If anyone at this gym is busy watching me run/dance/lift weights, fat and all, they're obviously not working out that hard themselves." It's impossible to have a challenging workout while worrying about what someone else is doing. That's just science, my friend. Okay, maybe not. But it should be. Fat Jesse, you run. And dance. Do whatever gets you moving. And remember to keep your eyes on your own treadmill so that no one mistakes you for people.
Law #2: The only thing worse than food running your life...is a DIET running your life.
Yes, ma'am, I wrote the word diet in all caps. Because there is something about that word that cries out to be announced. Emphasized. Repeated for all to hear until someone finally buckles, buys the same book, and joins me in the torture. I don't want to think of all the times I've walked into a social situation with a sign around my neck that says I'm on a diet. I'll be watching you eat. And on the occasions that I forgot my sign, the obnoxious Tupperware full of diet food I brought may have given it away for me.
About a month ago, Bennett and I decided to adopt a vegan diet. Although I admit to discovering vegan eating last year while bawling over stories of little piggies being tortured in Skinny B----, we have made the decision that we are doing it for nutritional reasons, not ethical ones. We both still want to go hunting someday. We don't insist on vegan clothing or scour food labels for things like honey or gelatin. All in all, I still believe in the whole "man having dominion over animals" business. I just no longer want them to have dominion over my gallbladder or my husband's arteries. We have chosen this way of living to correct years of unhealthy eating that has inevitably brought on health problems for us. And it just turns out that it's easier on our stomachs, improves my skin, and has made my constant companion for most of last year-gallbladder attacks- stay at bay. Not to mention, in the absence of my raging germaphobia over handling raw meat, I'm actually a pretty rockin' cook. We have found what works for us.
The bottom line, F.J.: The word diet has an entirely different meaning in the U.S. than it does pretty much anywhere else, and it's time to stop buying into it. My--ahem-- diet will be the group of foods that I choose as fuel on a regular basis, for my specific needs. And I trust myself to make some occasional exceptions. Never again will I go to a friend's house and refuse to eat what she's cooking because it isn't on the conveniently compiled list provided in the index of my latest diet book. Write this down, Fat Jesse. Wait, do you have pens in there? Anyway, just remember this: Being able to think on your feet in all kinds of situations--without wearing that sign or bringing that Tupperware--will be the real proof that you can do this for the rest of your life.
That is all the law I have for you today, Fat Jesse. Be forewarned, if you start doing weird things and tripping me up, I may have to write more.
With Love,
New Jesse, -11 lbs.
No comments:
Post a Comment