Randy and I are really good at losing and gaining the same weight over and over. We’re not only good at it, we’re professional level good at it. Well, not professional in which we get paid for it or anything. That’d be cool, though. I wouldn’t be sweating the cracked windshield and the check engine light in my red car.
Anyway, if you read my blog, then you know Randy got sick at the beginning of the year. We had been making dietary changes at that point and were just having some success when life took a sharp left.
We both lost weight while he was sick. Life would have been awesome if we had just kept on going. But, by the time he got better and came home from the hospital, we were both out of sorts. Out of sorts leads to baking.
A lot of baking.
I don’t think either one of us realized how much weight we were gaining. Shit’s been weird, yo. Then on Friday, I went to put on a pair of jeans that I last wore, very comfortably, about a month ago.
What the fucking fuck happened to these pants. Are these the pants I think they are? They are. Why can’t I button them?
I think one of the reasons why Randy and I work so well together is that we are supportive of each other. We decided it’s time to take being healthy seriously. Again.
I’m on day three of no refined sugar. Other than being sweaty, irritable, anxious, tired and generally pissed off at the world, it’s going great. I remember this from the last time. I think I have about 72 more hours of my body punishing me for taking away sugar and then I’ll start feeling good again. I remember how good I felt when I limited sugar and simple carbs. But then cake happened. As it often does.
Part of this plan involves working out. I’m starting slow. Just some time on the treadmill. If I used the same amount of energy working out that I have whining about working out, I’d look like Linda Hamilton in Terminator II by now.
Working out is sweaty and I’m a long way away from looking forward to it or feeling anything but exhausted when I am done. I know that will change, it just feels impossible right now.
So, it can’t just be me. Some of y’all probably hate working out. I am here to help you with this. I am going to give you 27 good goddamn reasons for not working out:
Disclaimer: These are for entertainment only. They are not intended to be used as real excuses. Except reason 4. And maybe 22.
- Is the treadmill plugged in? No? Fuck it. There’s only so much you can do.
- You’ll just end up with callouses on your heels.
- Listen real hard. You can hear tequila’s siren song. It must be answered.
- Watch My Monkey Baby on Netflix. It is a 7 out of 10 on the WTF scale that I just made up. I kind of feel like I need a support group after watching this.
- A drive to the liquor store could loosely be classified as a work out.
- It’s possible to choke on brownies if you eat them while jogging. A choice must be made between brownies and jogging. Brownies.
- What if your treadmill lures salacious robots? Do you want to be responsible for the robot invasion?
- Call a psychic hotline and ask them how much you will weigh six months from now. Then you’ll know if you can slack off for a night. It’s math, people. Made up, nonsensical math.
- Fuck you, I don’t have to work out.
- Seriously, I don’t mind being fat.
- How long has it been since you’ve watched Buffy all the way through from season one?
- The world is going to end some day. So why bother?
- I never said these excuses weren’t going to be depressing.
- Or silly.
- Wouldn’t you rather make a grilled cheese donut?
- Your clanking weights might attract zombies. You don’t know.
- If you can’t match up your headband, hair tie, socks, shorts, tank top and mood lighting, then what’s the fucking point?
- You should probably check your email.
- And Facebook.
- Probably Twitter, too.
- The knots on your gym shoes are impossible. You’ll just get frustrated.
- Watch Monty Python. I suggest this because Randy is watching Monty Python right now. The dead parrot sketch. I will never not laugh at this.
- Create a healthy menu for the next few weeks instead of working out. Then, create one for me.
- Also, can you come over and pack a lunch for me every morning? Not weekends. I’ll be fine on weekends. Probably.
- You might get acid reflux or trip on something or get way too sweaty. Plus, wouldn’t you rather read a book?
- Put clean sheets on your bed. Climbing into bed on clean sheets sounds nice right now, doesn’t it?
- Work on other ways to take care of you. Like promise yourself that you’ll stop reading Donald Trump articles. Or decide to cut back on the artificially sweetened cherry Koolaid.
Okay, so I did get on the treadmill. I didn’t want to. I’m not happy about it. But I did it. 3 days down, all the rest of them to go.
I also drank some cherry Koolaid.
Photograph courtesy of Thomas Kelley