Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for February, 2013

The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight, because by then your body and your fat are really good friends.

~Author Unknown

 I am yet to come across a woman who says she is happy with the way she looks and especially with her weight.  Perhaps even Angelina Jolie in all her glory of anorexic looks would start her day complaining that her skeletal frame weighs more than it did the day before.

I am not sure if men commiserate with their mates over their growing paunches and receding hairlines. However, I am certain that women seek comfort in sisterhood, exchanging a volley of “I have gained weight”, “no you haven’t”, “I am so flabby”, “me too”, “you look good”, ”no, I don’t” while catching up with friends;  rituals of female bonding that gets exercised every single time without exception. We dare not have the same conversation with our family members, especially our spouses, lest their candidness affect our fragile sensitivities and upset our occasional complacency about our weight gain.

As for me, I belong to the group of women who whinge about their weight at the slightest excuse and do absolutely nothing about it.  Perhaps if I actually get around to making some attempts to stave off the kilos that I seem to attract instead of simply talking about it, I might get somewhere.  But as it is, I have always been a couch potato, shying away from any kind of physical exercise.

However with the years creeping on, one can no longer excuse oneself from physical activity, can we? We are not only faced with the perplexity of body parts heading south but also the added insult of one’s metabolism not cranking the way it used to; as a result, our relationship with the weighing scales goes sour as the kilos creep on.

Then begins the denial phase with the camouflage game of hiding the extra bulges, burning money on an entire new wardrobe to drown one’s misery in; even resorting to the alleged leverage of high-heeled torture to offset the horizontal spread but just when we think we are ahead of the game, we realise we have fooled none but ourselves.  There is always someone out there to get us, breaking the sacred code of sisterhood and uttering the words we least want to hear “oh have you put on weight?”  What do we do then, we don’t kill the messenger, do we – as much as we are tempted to for bursting our bubble??

If you are anything like me with an aversion to workouts, I guess the battle against the bulges starts through food. Scouring the net for the perfect diet is easier said than done especially when one ends up getting lost in the abundant maze of information out there.

There was a time when I used to look with disdain at gym-junkies especially when they say no to delectable rich food treats.  But now I salute their steadfast loyalty towards discipline, an alien concept however to a sweet-tooth like me.  Even after cutting-down my patronage of the fast food restaurants and converting to healthy drinks, snacks and meals, I find it hard to give up totally on my sugar-cravings.

What if this is my only shot at existence and here I am denying myself my little indulgences of comfort food? Rather than having drawn-out metaphysical conversations with myself, I choose to continue my cosy relationship with cheesecakes and ice-creams.  After all, what use is having a cake and not eating it?

So with the diet games not yielding the results I want, I find myself left with few alternatives. I do not want to go through the oft-repeated path of signing up for gym memberships and giving up after two or three weeks.  In fact the family now staunchly believes that the only slimming that happens is to my wallet and not to me when I go on a gym-spree.  Walking, swimming, biking – all seems to be short lived options given my abhorrence of the slightest winds or chilly weather and above all, not being a morning person.

So when a friend organised hip-hop classes for women with the Horsham School of Dance, I decided to try it out already convinced that it was one of my short-lived ventures.  However after 8 weeks, I am still going strong and it looks like when you do something you like, you stand a better chance at lasting it out. So even in the battle of the bulges, there is no one size that fits all – instead the trick is finding out what works best for you.

No magic overnight cure for the bulges yet, however I am breaking out of my sedentary lifestyle and very proud of the baby steps I am still continuing to take while enjoying an opportunity to dance and bond with my girl at the same time.  Perhaps someday when I get on the workout bandwagon, I might not find it as daunting as I do now.

Weekly Advertiser: http://www.theweeklyadvertiser.com.au/2013/02/13/a-battle-of-the-bulges/

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: