The Roll
I used to be one of those annoying skinny people, who eats whatever they want, and then complains that they can't find anything to wear at Banana Republic, because the size two's there are too big. (Ok, big loss, I know, Banana Republic... but still.)
That was then. Now I am what I would describe as slim. Which is fine. I'm still pretty lucky- I only kind of watch what I eat. But I have a Roll. An ugly, malevolent, vicious Roll, right around my mid section. When I sit I can feel it choke up, and when I stand, I can feel it poking out over the tops of my jeans. The Roll haunts my dreams, and ruins perfectly good shopping days. A practical joker, it pretends to go away in the morning, and then rolls back, twice as big, after lunch, messing up what I thought was a flattering outfit. My Roll may live on me, but we are not friends.
I need it to go away. Not everything in my life is perfect, but this Roll is a demon that needs beating, and soon. As recently as last year my solution would be to "diet." But I am a terrible dieter, hence the quotes, and I am slowly learning it is best not to fool myself. So exercise it is.
I yearn to be one of those people who just loves to go to the gym. I hate all of you who do, by the way. That place just sucks the me right out of me. I could so be doing other better, more productive things, like reading, or eating, or napping. The second I enter a gym, I feel inadequate, like everyone else there is watching me only do five minutes on the treadmill. Watching me forget to wipe the handle bars on the bicycle. Watching me set the elliptical to the easiest setting. Watching and judging.
It's ridiculous of course. No one cares how I work out. But I still prefer the anonymity of being in public. So this morning I went for a run.
There is a brand new track three blocks from my house, right on the East River. It is pretty beautiful. And pretty empty at 10am. When I got there the only other person running was Chuck Klosterman. If you don't know who he is, go to amazon.com right now and buy his book, Fargo Rock City. He is a great music writer. Seeing him was a relief. If he can do it, so can I right?
I had told RC before I left that I intended to do 4 laps which is almost a mile. He is a good man, because he did not laugh at me when I told him this. I ran one lap and wanted to DIE. Seriously, I thought my lungs were going to explode out of my chest, spin around and collapse on the field in the center of the track. I slowed to what the old ladies call a "power walk."
It used to be, in this situation, I would quit. But not today. This is war, me against The Roll. I am determined to win, not with stupidity and arrogrance, but with pride and flat belly. So I reached a compromise with myself. I "power walked" half of each lap, and ran the other half. It felt kind of ok. Not great yet, but ok. At the end, I threw myself on the ground in a corner, and did some "crunches."
I'll let you know how those work...
The war has begun, and the first battle has been surmounted. Next time, I will run TWO whole laps, before I walk. That'll show old Roll. My strategy is to have Roll conquered by the time I go to Mexico in Decemeber.
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Mich - how do you have the power to tap into my brain and articulate my exact thoughts? Considering a little while ago I went jogging with Eric around the track in the burg and during my fourth lap, I felt just like those lazy, beaten up, half-dead horses on those pony riding excursions in nature-themed tourist traps. I was busting my ass to make it back to the stable.
Seriously, I thought I was going to die. And yes, I ate a bagel this morning at my desk as I read through my work email. One more point for the roll.
I believe the technical term for the Roll when combined with pants is "muffintop"... you know, from the back you can see the overspill from the jeans. awesome. now, that's what I call bringing sexy back.