Resolution

So I'm not really one for the resolution thing. First of all, I have no discernible willpower. This proves to be a problem eventually. Secondly, I think it's ridiculous to make a sudden decision that you're really going to do what you should have been doing all along. Thirdly, I always look bad when I slack off, and I don't like looking bad.

But, I'm willing to risk falling flat on my face (figuratively, although I never put it past myself to go literally on that) and fail at yet another discipline, because I need to get in shape. Here's the deal. Being thin is interesting. Because A.) you end up dating guys that like the super-thin supermodel type, and insist that you stay that way (jerks, all of them. I learned that lesson the hard way...I'll never date another guy who watches my weight more than I do...), B.) you tend not to value exercise or eating right because no one notices (except for aforementioned boyfriend) if you gain the odd 5-10 pounds or lose those same pounds, and C.) because people have this odd habit of shoving food at you all day, saying, "You're thin, you should eat this..." or "You're thin, you need to put some weight on, have seconds of this cake." This strikes me as unnaturally rude and slightly obnoxious. What if I said to someone, "You're too fat, you shouldn't eat that," and pulled the snacks away from them? I would get my butt kicked promptly, and I would deserve it. So why is it okay for someone to shove food at me and insist that I eat it? I get that it's not really a problem, per se, and that I shouldn't complain about something so innocuous when there are far more important problems in the world...but it's weird to be thin sometimes.

This brings me to my resolution phase. Because I am not the type of person to turn down a second helping of anything. ANYTHING. Ok. Maybe anything with cilantro. I hate cilantro. Anyway, I have gladly eaten all that has been put before me for years now, including the second and third helpings that everyone so generously shovels to me. I have gained some weight, which hasn't been all bad, as I now have curves where there used to be none. No complaints there. However, my cholesterol has also shot up and my general state of lethargy has led to a decrease in strength and conditioning. I still enjoy hiking, swimming, blah, blah, blah, but I only ever exercise when I'm on vacation, which I think is strange. I need to get into some sort of routine. Scott is a runner. My boyfriends have all been runners. Which I think is strange, because I hate running. I heard a girl say once, "I only run when chased", and adopted it as my new motto. But I really need to get moving, and running seems to be the best option, if only because doing it with Scott will make it more likely that I will actually do it. He's very supportive of the idea of me exercising, mostly because he does it and it makes him feel good, so he wants that for me. I've been putting him off about it on and off for months. But maybe I need to stop putting him off, and get my lazy butt out of bed and join him when he runs along the lake. This sounds idyllic to me, running, footsteps pounding on the pavement, waves crashing on the shore, sun shining as we pass people playing in the water. The reality will actually look more like this: me cringing, my side hurting, getting sweaty, dodging walkers, strollers, and trying not to get run over by bikers, me having to stop because I'm blacking out. Really, it's a sad, sad picture. But I need to get out there, if only to prove to myself that I can, indeed, take care of myself when needed. And then, when I prove that to myself, I will be able to find that wee little bit of willpower that I need to be able to say, "Nope, I don't need a second piece of cake. That's another hour I have to run..."

Until tomorrow, I will eat really, really poorly. Then, my friends, we shall see. If you see me soon, and I am limping, just pat me on the shoulder and don't comment...it'll save me the obvious humiliation and will leave me with only the subtle kind...