I wish I had remembered to put on deodorant after my shower last night.
Anyway, I wanna talk about fitness today, because it's something I never talk about. And I might have something intelligent to say about it. So, here we go.
I've had the pleasure of being both skinny and fat. When I was in high school, I was 5' 6" and weighed a meager 110 pounds. I hated being skinny. I wanted a butt, a thigh- something! I got my wish after I met Tom in my early 20's. The man took me out to eat every day. I remember being at his house, getting a craving for Mexican food at 3 a.m., and off we went to Chacho's to get a huge take-out box of nachos. It was simply divine. The cheese was so thick, that you would choke on it if you didn't chew it up properly. I did this a lot, because, like I've said before, I inhale my food. I am now a firm believer that, if you're not choking on cheese from your nachos, they probably just aren't that good.
After being together six months I had gained ten pounds. It was awesome! And it was the first time I felt that I was at a normal weight. But, like a toddler who just learned to walk, I became dangerous and unstoppable. The greasier the food, the more I ate.
Somewhere between the blur of burritos, cheesecake and chili-cheese fries, Tom and I decided to move to Los Angeles. And so, there we were in the big city, me in fashion school, Tom a struggling writer. Then it occurred to me while walking around campus the first day: these girls don't look like my Texas home-girls.
Uh-oh.
By Texas standards, 140 pounds was hot. You were on the cusp of being a model! You were gold, baby! You were killin' it out there, yo! By L.A. standards it was more like, you need to lose twenty pounds. Like, now.
It was the first time I had been self-conscious about being, dare I say, "overweight." But, before you judge me, take into consideration, I was young and dumb. I say that a lot about my early 20's because it's true! I sort of went wherever the wind blew me. And the Los Angeles wind happened to blow me (heh, heh) into the land of dieting. A place where Twinkies were mean, fluffy enemies, burritos now had angry faces, and my sacred, late-night nacho fix was a fucking nightmare.
I remember having lunch with a group of girls at school and was mortified to see one of them eat only a tortilla, an apple and a Kraft cheese slice. And water.
She was done eating in like two minutes, and then it was quite awkward as I sat there, still squeezing goopy mayonnaise from a pouch onto my thick and hearty turkey sandwich. I could see the hunger pains bubbling up from her stomach into her eyes as she watched me take a bite. You know how dogs watch you eat, and sort of move their snout as you move your lips to chew? That's what this was like. It was weird.
One day, I commented to her, between voracious bites of pizza, "You're so skinny, how'd you do that?" and she got really excited to tell me all about how she starved herself. Well, she didn't say "starve" but I inferred it from the conversation that followed.
"I only eat fish. I never drink juice because it has so many calories. I eat lots of apples to feel full. I don't use butter or mayonnaise. I don't eat bread or peanut butter. And I literally want to die."
Well, I made that last part up. But I'm sure she felt that way to some degree. I sure wanted to die at that point. I remember thinking, "This is what people are doing out here? Eating apples and drinking water? This sucks!" And then in a whiney voice, "I wanna go home and eat a pie!"
Stay tuned for "The Hunger Pains: Part II" tomorrow where I discuss how I lost a little weight and then gained 60 pounds! Yay for me!
Anyway, I wanna talk about fitness today, because it's something I never talk about. And I might have something intelligent to say about it. So, here we go.
I've had the pleasure of being both skinny and fat. When I was in high school, I was 5' 6" and weighed a meager 110 pounds. I hated being skinny. I wanted a butt, a thigh- something! I got my wish after I met Tom in my early 20's. The man took me out to eat every day. I remember being at his house, getting a craving for Mexican food at 3 a.m., and off we went to Chacho's to get a huge take-out box of nachos. It was simply divine. The cheese was so thick, that you would choke on it if you didn't chew it up properly. I did this a lot, because, like I've said before, I inhale my food. I am now a firm believer that, if you're not choking on cheese from your nachos, they probably just aren't that good.
After being together six months I had gained ten pounds. It was awesome! And it was the first time I felt that I was at a normal weight. But, like a toddler who just learned to walk, I became dangerous and unstoppable. The greasier the food, the more I ate.
Somewhere between the blur of burritos, cheesecake and chili-cheese fries, Tom and I decided to move to Los Angeles. And so, there we were in the big city, me in fashion school, Tom a struggling writer. Then it occurred to me while walking around campus the first day: these girls don't look like my Texas home-girls.
Uh-oh.
By Texas standards, 140 pounds was hot. You were on the cusp of being a model! You were gold, baby! You were killin' it out there, yo! By L.A. standards it was more like, you need to lose twenty pounds. Like, now.
 |
| Food talks |
I remember having lunch with a group of girls at school and was mortified to see one of them eat only a tortilla, an apple and a Kraft cheese slice. And water.
She was done eating in like two minutes, and then it was quite awkward as I sat there, still squeezing goopy mayonnaise from a pouch onto my thick and hearty turkey sandwich. I could see the hunger pains bubbling up from her stomach into her eyes as she watched me take a bite. You know how dogs watch you eat, and sort of move their snout as you move your lips to chew? That's what this was like. It was weird.
 |
| This bites |
One day, I commented to her, between voracious bites of pizza, "You're so skinny, how'd you do that?" and she got really excited to tell me all about how she starved herself. Well, she didn't say "starve" but I inferred it from the conversation that followed.
"I only eat fish. I never drink juice because it has so many calories. I eat lots of apples to feel full. I don't use butter or mayonnaise. I don't eat bread or peanut butter. And I literally want to die."
Well, I made that last part up. But I'm sure she felt that way to some degree. I sure wanted to die at that point. I remember thinking, "This is what people are doing out here? Eating apples and drinking water? This sucks!" And then in a whiney voice, "I wanna go home and eat a pie!"
Stay tuned for "The Hunger Pains: Part II" tomorrow where I discuss how I lost a little weight and then gained 60 pounds! Yay for me!
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