The Fat Came Back

I rocked up to the gym last night for Pump and the gym WAS CLOSED.

Not only was it closed, there was tape across the doors and a big fat security guard.

Apparently there’s been a "misunderstanding" between the building owners and the gym management. From the notice on the door it seemed to me they’d neglected to pay the rent.

Recently a friend of ours was joining the gym and the 12 month membership is now a whopping $695. There’s a bazillion people at that gym, why can’t they play the bloody rent?

Of course my first instinct was to panic and wonder what I’d do without the gym, there’s not one half as close to our house, the rest are yucky, rah rah rah. Worst of all I panicked because I took the week off last week…

(well that is a lie. I only took the week off from weights. I felt I needed a rest after a few months hard slog. So instead I did one class of each fitball, yoga and Body Jam [insane dance class])

… and was so ITCHING to get back into it and the gym was closed and would this mean the fat would come back?

I swear I could feel my body twitching to get in there. I almost cried. Yes, can you believe how things have changed around here, dear reader? I wanted to cry because I couldn’t exercise. Crikey.

Anyway, we’ve been assured the gym will be open on Wednesday. It bloody better be! ROAR!

So what’s new around here? I couldn’t tell you how much I weigh, the gym scales said 112 kg at my fitness assessment last Wednesday, but they always were kinder than the WW scales. I haven’t been back to WW yet. Things to do keep cropping up on Monday nights…

(Funny thing about losing weight, the more you lose the more outgoing you feel, the more you seem to get invited places, therefore the more tempations you are faced with. I had spaghetti bolognaise last night [not bad] with four small pieces of garlic bread [bad] but I can bounce back from that)

… so traipsing to the other side of the city to stand on the scale has not been a priority. But I seem to be doing okay. I had my measurments done during my fitness assessment and I’d lost another 3cm from both my upper arm and my calf. Usually you’re lucky to lose half a cm in those spots, but three! It’s the weights, I tells ya. My shape is changing. Also had good losses from chest, waist, hips and thigh. Woo.

My next gym challenge, should the bloody thing ever re-open, will be to try a Cycle Power class. I think that’s like Spinning or something. I just need to shake things up a little. That’s the key to busting your lard, folks. You have to try new things and surprise your lumpy body.

Things That Piss Me Off #437 – Inconsistent Clothing Sizes.

I found a nice skirt the other day and it was a size 20. It was even a little big around the waist. Woo, I said, woo, I am a size 20 at last! Soon I will be an 18 which sounds SO much better.

Then on Saturday I had a burning desire to have a pair of jeans. Why? Because my jeans are size 24 and huge. Also, I was going out on Saturday evening and was too lazy to shave my legs so I wanted jeans. I went to Grace Bros (a dept. store) and went to the BIB section (apparently stands for Big Is Beautiful… more like Big Is BloodyCrapPolyesterParadise) with my friend Jenny. This was strange for me as before I would never have let a size 8 friend know I was that big. But I don’t care so much now.

Anyway, the jeans were very ordinary but they would do. But they didn’t have any 20s! Bloody hell. I was sad. Jenny suggested we look at Jeans West, a "normal" shop catering mainly for slivers of teenage girls. But they had size 20 jeans. Woo. I went into the change room and went to put them on. Two minutes of intense wrestling and grunting later, they sucked at my legs like leeches. I somehow managed to pull them over my hips, then looked around for the zipper. Oh there it was. One half on one side of my big belly and the other half on the other side. This was not one of those "suck it in" jobs, nor one of those "buy it and fit into it in a month or so". It was simply TOO BLOODY SMALL and would take another year of frantic exercise to fit.

So I slinked out of the change room and felt like shit. Jenny’s all, "How did you go?" and I mutter, "terrible!" and the saleslady appears from nowhere, pencil thin and chirping, "How did you go?"

"No good!" I said quietly.

"Oh that’s a pity! What’s was wrong with them?"

"They didn’t fit!"

"Oh! Would you like to try our men’s jeans? Some ladies prefer those!"

"I have too much hip and gut and butt for men’s jeans."

"Oh are you sure? You’d be surprised!"

"Maybe next time!" I blurt and flee from the shop, shoving on my sunglasses just in time for me to start crying.

I dunno how you can make a tall leggy waif like my mate Jenny understand how that feels. I guess I was kidding myself that I could walk in and fit into something from a "normal" shop.

Once again it’s the feeling of having worked SO HARD for a whole year now, to have changed so much mentally, and feeling like the body should have caught up by now. But it hasn’t. So once again, I have to remind myself to be more patient, and to not give up. I’ll get into those bloody jeans eventually.

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