Like most women (and men) in their middle years, I too have developed the dreaded "middle-aged spread." Commonly known as the Spare Tire.
It didn't happen overnight, but it sure felt like it did. The pounds slowly crept up on me until I found myself uncomfortably chubby.
Not fat. "Hell NO!"
Just pleasingly plump. (That's what I like to tell myself anyway.)
Only every time I sit down, my new little buddy likes to pop out over the top of my shorts and say Hello. I find that I like to grab it. I want to stuff it back in like Poppin Fresh Dough. But it won't go back in the tube. It just lays there like freshly raised bread.
"I don't like you." I say to Spare Tire. "Go away. See...I'll even help you out. I"ll stop with the wine and the ice cream. That should help."
Ha. HA! I say! (Spare Tire is stubborn indeed.)
"Fine. Be that way. I know what will chase you away. A light jog. Not a run. Somewhere between a fast walk and a trot. Burn some calories. Input vs Output. Simple math." I say to myself.
Now that the weather has turned cooler and the morning sun sleeps in later, I've made the effort to get out and trot around the hood a bit. No one can see me as I puff on by.
Walk, trot, walk, trot....Slow and easy. One day on. One day off. Build it up slowly since you're so out of shape. (Visions of Skinny Tami dance in my head.)
After a few weeks of this, has anything changed? Has Spare Tire started to wave bye-bye?
I've discovered middle aged fat is kinda like super glue. It's bonded with me. I do feel like I have more energy though. And I'm less moody. But that might be just a coincidence. (Everyday is an adventure in peri-menopause isn't it?)
I have developed a new friendship though.
"Spare Tire, I'd like you to meet Jello Knee." (Spare Tire and Jello Knee shake hands like the old buddies they are.
Jello Knee stopped by my house for a visit this week. Unlike Spare Tire (who just lays around all day and appears to be here for the long haul), Jello Knee's surprise visit demands that I pay him a bit more attention. Jello Knee likes to stretch and prefers a daily rub down. Having Jello Knee around makes me groan like an old person when I stand up.
Or sit down.
Or go up the steps.
Or back down the steps.
In fact, having Jello Knee around has completely distracted me from Spare Tire. I swear I heard Spare Tire laughing at me the other day.
Jello Knee has insisted that I stop my pathetic attempts at trotting around the block. At least for a few days.
He's right of course. I shouldn't push it.
But could someone tell Spare Tire to stop snickering?