Let me start with a disclaimer.
This is not a passive aggressive attempt to garner compliments. I do not have an eating disorder and I don’t have any issues with what I see in the mirror. I’m not obese, not even fat…technically. I’m healthy I work out and I eat really well 90% of the time.
This is just an insight into what all women do….we’re whacked!
Whenever I land in the US I gain 5 pounds. It just is. I don’t hit the nearest McDonald’s or any other fast food outlet. I simply enjoy good food, which I cannot get in Rwanda. Grimaldi’s pizza, fish tacos and Noosa yogurt with granola….and cheese, glorious cheese. And then there are 3,000 varieties of beer and wine. I’m in the motherland!
I rode 55 hours since I’ve been home. I’ve ridden more, done more yoga and even did my pushups and situp apps almost daily. I still gained weight.
It started with my jeans just being a bit snug. I’m lucky in that I’m tall and can fluctuate 5-10 pounds and still stay the same size. It’s the comfort that changes.
Last weekend when I was riding I was telling a girlfriend of mine the game of mental justification I had been playing.
The jeans were tight because I’ve been putting them in the dryer…..on HIGH.
It must be all the riding I’ve been doing it’s making my thighs bigger.
I think they’re tight because my feet are a bit fat I must be retaining water.
She laughed the entire time. This is the universal language for all women.
I finally got on the scale. Just as I feared, exactly 5 pounds.
And so I wore my tightest fat reminder jeans the rest of the day lying around the house. Miserably uncomfortable. My punishment and my reminder not to have a beer and some nachos with the flavorful new chipotle cheddar cheese I had just purchased the day before.
Later this week, after cutting back the eating and riding more I was still 5 pounds up. I ate some organic vanilla bean and mint chip ice cream wearing my sweats.
I was talking to another girlfriend, an incredibly talented business owner, super fit skiing and biking fanatic (she won Leadville at 40!). She commented how she’s gotten fat because she’s been working so much. I laughed and shared with her my fat reminder jean story.
She laughed and said, “I’m wearing mine right now!”
I’m thinking men don’t sit around and have these conversations. They just go to Kohl’s and buy new jeans.
I refuse to buy new jeans. I bought another tight pair of size 6 jeans two days ago to remind me I still have 5 pounds hanging on.
Like I said in the disclaimer, I’m not fat. But I am married to the fat Nazi, a former pro cyclists (have you seen how freakishly thin they are?) who is still only 10 pounds above his freakishly, emaciated race weight. And he can skip meals! Who does that? I can miss one meal…maybe, but 2 or 3? I become a hangry bitch. Whenever I travel with him on a motorbike I have learned to pack snacks as stopping to eat is never on the itinerary. I have been seen shoving clif bars up through my helmet to stay coherent.
I know he loves me as I am. I know I am way too disciplined about being healthy. but really what woman wants to weigh the same or God forbid more than her freakishly thin ex pro cyclist husband?
So, I will go back to Rwanda and not have anything that contributed to my weight gain and I will call it a day, happy for the enjoyment of simply good food.