Intersection of Chubby and Obese

It’s no secret to those of you who are faithful readers that weight, food, and exercise have been issues lately. I’m not obese…yet. I would say I am flirting with “chunky” – but it’s about to get serious.

Now, I’ve taken drastic measures of late- even signing up AND attending Boot Camp religiously. It’s great- it’s very difficult, the camaraderie of the other women is oh so nice, and honestly I can’t remember the last time I felt so good after exercise. The only con is that it is pricey- and I constantly feel like getting in a fist fight (so there are two cons- just depends on how you look at it I guess).

So, what to do, what to do? Hey I know- sign the entire family up for the new health club! Oh yes I did. We have a brand new fitness club that has a family plan- and by family plan I do not mean a glorifed nursery with cast-off Little Tikes toys and a television playing Spongebob. This place has programs for kids- exercise classes, a pool that they can swim in INDOORS while I exercise, a full gym with basketball goals and soccer goals- all totally supervised.

Not only do they take care of the kids- there is everything under the sun for the adults too- so I’ll be taking a “Booty Camp” class for six weeks that guarantees to “lengthen and sculpt a feminine physique.” We’ll see.

The locker room is beyond cool- but that will require a post all to itself. In addition to Booty Camp, I also get a complete nutritional assessment from the dietician when I signed up- it was a promotional deal they had going. I will have this assessment this week. Here’s how I envision it going:

Dietician Lady: Let’s look at your diet. What would you say the basis of your diet is?

Me: Chocolate and Cheese

Dietician Lady: What about for meals? What kinds of vegetables do you eat?

Me: Chocolate and Cheese

Dietician Lady: Vegetables?

Me: Not really

And then I foresee that things will go south very quickly. I have a love/hate relationship with vegetables. Actually, it’s pretty much a hate/hate relationship. I know they are good for me, they prevent cancer, make your skin healthy, keep you thin, blah, blah, blah. BUT- chocolate and cheese make me happy. Doesn’t that count for something?

In my world, eating vegetables is much like marriage. You know- at first (the honeymoon period) you’ll eat the vegetables just as they are- no seasoning, no special preparation- just the way they are because they’re good for you and make you feel good.

But, as the relationship progresses and you settle into your new life you still like them, but start to notice that if you added a little balsamic glaze, ginger, or maybe a light vinaigrette, they would be sooooo much more appealing.

Then, the honeymoon is over and no amount of balsamic glaze will do because as much as you know that vegetables are good and right and healthy, you just start to crave chocolate (DON’T read anything into this- sometimes chocolate is just chocolate- NOT a metaphor for anything else.)

You fight the urge for a while and continue to glaze your broccoli and eat salads, but your heart just isn’t in it- all you can think of is chocolate. So, you start sneaking the chocolate because you don’t want your vegetables to feel less cruciferous. You keep telling yourself that if you just eat a little more chocolate you’ll be ready to re-commit to the vegetables, but the more you eat the more you want. You even find yourself trying to create a chocolate glaze for your vegetables- surely they could become friends! But, you fail…miserably.

There is no good way to mix chocolate and vegetables, so you reach a crossroads.

You are officially at the intersection of chunky and obese. You must choose a direction. One way requires that you eat your vegetables, attend Booty Camp, and drink water (the horror)! The other allows you to continue the chocolate, cheese, Diet Coke feast. What to do, what to do?

All that is left is to choose. Do I choose a lifetime of better health, smaller pores, and improved colon function or a shortened lifetime with sallow skin, a sluggish colon, and an extra butt cheek or seven?

It’s a tough choice.

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