I swear I’ve put on ten kilos since I got back from the States in November. Or maybe five kilos. I don’t know. I don’t own a set of scales, and have no real idea how to translate that fascinating new roll of me that’s developed around my middle into actual measurable weighing terms. I’m just fatter.
There’s reasons for this. There always are, unfortunately. One, I think, is that my whole eating structure got somehow reset by a country seemingly built on sugar, fat and artificial colours (when you’ve eaten deep-fried zucchini chips with Dr Pepper you come home thinking pretty much anything is healthy). The other is that I spent a good portion of January eating chocolate and crying (sometimes simultaneously) and precious little time exercising, of which I used to do a fair bit.
On the other hand, though (there’s always another hand. Unless, of course, you’re Sam Cawthorn), once every couple of days someone will come up to me and say “Wow, you’re looking fantastic!” And they mean it!
To which I answer “why, thank you!” and move on.
I’m wondering though, could there be something in this? Something other than deep-fried zucchini chips and Dr Pepper, that is? It’s very possible that I just looked like death-warmed-up for a few weeks there, or it could be that my “fat clothes” suit me better than my “skinny clothes” (who has a double-wardrobe? Things you buy and then put on or lose enough weight to make it not look right any more? Yeah. I’m thinking it’s a getting-older thing). However, it just COULD be that fat is the new skinny, and I really should be ten kilos – or five kilos – or however much that new roll of fat weighs – heavier.
I could keep going. I’m going back to the deep-fried-sugar capital of the world at the end of the year. I might come back thinking that my “fat clothes” are too small. You never know. I might even stay this way. Or worse. I might even come back with a “Miss Super-sized Universe” award…
I’m new to this weight fluctuation thing. How about you? Do you ever feel better about yourself when you’re putting on weight? Does it bother you? Do you think we should all throw out the notion of skinny and just embrace who we are?
Deep-friend zucchini chips. They are wickedly good.
Megan Sayer 
Ok…. I was there when you ate those… and they were pretty amazing!! But, do you know what my favorite part of this post was?!?!?!…. You know… “Iām going back to the deep-fried-sugar capital of the world at the end of the year. ” YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t wait!!
WAHOOO!! Yup! I can’t wait either!! š š š
Although this time Kathi YOU need to choose the lunch. And lets make it a long one!
That would be great! Do you have dates lined up yet?
Not booked yet. But we’ll definitely be in Grand Rapids in the 3rd weekend in October for the Breathe Writer’s Conference, and probably a week or so beforehand as well. Or a few days before and a few days after. but around then.
Love the sound of deep fried zucchini, delish! Oh, every woman has two wardrobes, I’m in the process of trying to be more skinny clothes than fat. But I love my food and tolerate exercise…
I’m glad to know it’s not just me! And yes Jen…watch out on your trip for such amazing concepts as deep-fried zucchini. Ay. MAYY Zing.
Their pizza is nowhere as good as ours though…
It is sad that we tend to deep-fry everything here. I’ve done the weight fluctuation thing for years. I’m seriously working on fluctuating down for the last time, I hope. And no, I never feel good about myself when I’m gaining weight. Which, in and of itself, is probably a bad thing. However, I’m unhealthily obese, so I need to keep working, not so much to get “thin,” just to get healthier. Why? Good question. Mostly so I can do fun stuff without exhausting myself. But, on the other hand, our nation/world seems to be overly obsessed with being skinny.
Good luck with that, Jeff. It’s a hard battle. I’m sick of the western obsession with skinny, too, and part of me wants to say “stuff it” and embrace the size I am, but the health thing – and the memory that I much prefer NOT being nine months pregnant and carrying an extra 20 pounds with me – makes me want to do something about it. Mostly right now I miss being 25 and being able to eat whatever I wanted without worrying. Sigh. Gone are those days…