Coast down driveway thinking, “THIS WAS THE BEST DECISION EVER MADE.” Turn onto the road and feel like I’m gliding. Want to go really really fast but legs won’t keep up. Thighs start to ache. Remember that cycling is a legitimate form of exercise. Why must something this much fun involve hard work/sweatiness.
Decide that I have now gone halfway. Pull off to side of road. Put feet on ground. Briefly fear that legs may not let me stand up as they’re now made of jelly.
Stare down road and watch the setting sun sink behind mountains. Wonder what superpowers I had as a kid that made biking around the farm so effortless. Is this what I get for getting taller, older, and addicted to the internet. (Yes.)
Turn around. Struggle my way home again, occasionally stopping because whoops my thighs have caught on fire. Oh no, wait, just unfit. Hope neighbours aren’t peeking out their windows and laughing at the cute fat girl on her retro bike.
Walk up driveway because it’s a gentle slope upwards this time and NOPE NOPE NOPE. Stagger inside on wobbly legs. Phew.
(I’m quite in love with my new bike.)
SO MUCH OF MY WARDROBE IS UNAVAILABLE TO ME NOW YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I’m 6kg heavier than I was in this photo and at that point I was self-conscious because I was already 4kg heavier than my normal weight and OH GOD THAT ADDS UP. Ten kilos? TEN KILOS HEAVIER THAN I SHOULD BE BAWWW. In truth, it’s more like 12kg, but I’m in denial.
It’s the antidepressants. Despite all my efforts, fat has been oozing onto my body because my antidepressants HATE ME. Terrifying though that may be, I’m not about to try another pill since escitalopram agrees with me in all the other ways. I mean, for the first time in about a year, I’ve managed to hand in an assignment (actually two!)! Too bad this magic pill is making me fat.
Then again, I also calculated my BMR and I’ve been way off without realising. So maybe I’ll just blame myself. Why do Cadbury creme eggs have to be so misleadingly small?
Since I’ve been trying to eat less since the beginning of the semester and failed, combating the weight gain requires joining a gym. Unipol is too far away – if I had to haul my pale squidgy body halfway across Dunedin just to get there, I’d never go, but luckily there’s one only a few metres from my house. I think I’d like to go into this exercising venture with more goals/reasons than “to lose weight” though. Otherwise I’ll spend 30 minutes on a treadmill and then sulk because WHY AM I NOT SKINNY YET.
- I want to be good at running. When I can run 10km I want to write to my high school PE teachers and tell them about it. Note to self: buy sports bra. I tried running without one this summer, but it turns out I can’t run and at clutch my chest at the same time.
- Seeing yourself get better at something! A couple of years ago I started getting sort of … not bad … at running, and I was so proud of myself. I’ve been dying to get back into it.
- I miss listening to Cabin Pressure whilst flailing on a treadmill like I did at home.
- That post-exercise I’M GOING TO PASS OUT, NO WAIT, WORLD DOMINATION YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH feeling.
- Fulfil secret wish to be more like Korra.
When I’ve finally lost that 10kg, I can get away with eating more, yusss.
Reporting back via the blog will remind me to be more proactive of The Goal, with the added bonus of how snarking my way through something makes it more tolerable. The next time I wonder whether I could get away with eating enough sushi to make my belly look pregnant, I’ll think of all the imaginary people who read my blog and how disappointed they’ll be. I simply have no choice but to be successful!
Alas, gymming has to wait until after mid-semester break (my sneakers are at home), but now I have to do it because I wrote about it here and I really want you guys to like me. In the meantime, I’m going to be counting mah calories and praying for the end of the easter. When I can’t buy creme eggs anymore I’ll probably lose weight over night. >_<