Who’s That Girl? Oh S#(*, It’s Me…

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Ever walked by a shop window or a big mirror, seen the reflection in the glass as you pass and wondered for a split second, “Who is that?” For once, I’d like to do it and think, “Who is that lovely, pulled-together, chic creature?”  and then realize it’s me. 

That exact scenario hasn’t happened yet.

Usually, what happens is I catch a glimpse in the glass and stifle a scream…or, at the very least I groan and quicken my pace.  But during my mini-writing retreat the reflection in the glass was inescapable.  I walked by a gigantic mirror in my hotel room between the sleeping area and the bathroom (hence the inescapable-ness); I then caught a glimpse of a grumpy looking stout woman in really bad clothing (in my defense, there was a draft in the room and I am a devout layerer.)

I stopped in mid-stride and did a double take.  Holy shitballs, I exclaimed out loud.  That’s what I look like.  I peeled off my bulky wool sweater and still the image refused to slim down.  I looked like a pear with pink and green mold growing on it.  Not a pleasant vision. 

When did this happen?  How did this pear-shaped creature take over my usual svelte self?  It dawned on me that I had perhaps taken the “fatten up to survive a Canadian winter” thing too far.  Sadder still is the realization that we had a really mild winter…

The really bad clothing problem can be rectified but the shape of me – well that’s another problem altogether and given the state of my idling  metabolism – it won’t be so easy to fix.  There are several very serious obstacles standing in my way.

Obstacle #1:  I am severely allergic to exercise.  Just the thought of planned physical activity can throw my back out or bring on a migraine.

Obstacle #2:  Exercise allergy notwithstanding, I have an unreasonable fear of fitness clubs.  I hate the music, the overabundance of spandex and sweat, the judging (bullshit, you know it happens). 

Obstacle #3:  Severe lack of funds.  Even if I could overcome #1 & #2, I can’t afford to join a gym.  I do have an exercise bike in my basement…somewhere…

and finally, we come to Obstacle #4:  Me.  As we all know, #4 is the only one that really counts and the one who drives all the others.  I see runners, joggers, and cyclists every day – I feel pangs of jealousy when I see them out there no matter what the weather.  They are better than me.  I run like a three-legged water buffalo.   I’m scared to death to cycle on city streets and that leaves walking.

But will walking be enough?  I think I will enlist my soccer star daughter as my personal trainer.  She is trained by a fairly maniacal coach who is a believer that fitness wins the game.  She can teach me some mat exercises, some core workouts, etc.  The problem is, who is going to make me do it?

I know – that stout woman in the hotel mirror.  I am finally at the point where I will do anything to avoid seeing her ever again.

 

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