Ah, it's that time again. I think it comes around a few times a year. Month, maybe? I'd go as far as to say it comes around a couple times a week as of late. I've gone lazy.
Yes, I know. I run. And, "you just rode your bike 100 miles! OMG!" But that is not my point. I feel lazy. And unhealthy. And it's giving me a complex.
I have run a total of eight miles since moving here. That was eight miles in one shot, which means I have put on running shoes only once in 26 days. Not to mention that I've been eating like absolute shit, and will continue to do so until I can afford a healthy dose of grocery shopping.
I'm starting to feel puffy. And fluffy. Not conditioned in the least. Today I have on my fat jeans. They're the jeans I tuck far away into the depths of the unknown because they fucking suck. I put them on and they fit. They were comfortable. They didn't used to be. They used to hang just a bit more, and have more leeway in the thighs.
So now I'm pissed, and eating salad for lunch (followed, of course, by a piece of angel food birthday cake that is NOT favorable to my fat jeans complex). I keep telling myself I am going to run after work, but then I get home and I'm a loss.
Ooooh, air-conditioning! Look, TV! My bed! The phone! I can clean! Pretty much anything to keep me from running. Last night I went as far as to put my running clothes on, only once they were on, I slipped into flip flops and walked to the grocery store to buy Ramen Noodles for dinner.
THAT IS NOT HELPING.
(At least I walked?)
My dilemma is this, and maybe some women can understand - I feel just fine in clothes. Hell, I can even look thin if I try. I know how to accentuate my assets - which jeans do good for my ass, or which shoes give me killer legs. But when my clothes come off?
This is not to say I'm often seen prancing around naked (outside the confines of my apartment, cough). But maybe I want to feel good naked. Even if just for myself. Maybe when it's hot I want to run in a sports bra and not panic at the thought of my abdominal jiggle.
Maybe I want to put on a swimsuit and not feel bullseyes on each of my imperfections.
Maybe, dammit, I want to brush my teeth in the nude and not leave the bathroom in a huff to get in a good cardio workout.
These are all pipe dreams, people. But a girl can dream, right?