On Working Out

I went running today.

 

It sucked.

 

I sucked.

It was hot out.

General suckage.

 

The really depressing thing was that I weighed myself after my run and I weighed like six pounds more than I thought I weighed.  Like I thought I was making actual progress but I wasn’t.  It was just a big fat lie I told myself. 

 

So I was all angry when I got off the scale and I took a really angry shower and was just generally angry all over the locker room at the gym and then just felt like shit and was hungry.

Which is this whole full-circle of horror thing.

I’ve been counting calories for ten days now.

So I feel like there should be some sort of progress.

In my body’s defense, I haven’t weighed myself in probably two years…

So everything was just a guess.

But it doesn’t matter.

There’s still this epic depression.

And then you can’t tell anyone in your actual life about it because they all already hate you for being “skinny”.

There is very little understanding about “toning” in the female world.  Most females, especially moms, want to talk about how their fat is beautiful.

And that’s fine.

And there are a lot of women who hold fat on their bodies in a beautiful way and strut so well it makes me want to eat them out right there in front of me.

I am not one of those women.

I have an extremely small frame but wide shoulders and hips so any amount of fat rolls and flows and only happens in one or two areas so I just look like I have strange growths all over me.

Welcome to skinniness.

It’s fab.

So I lifted weights for all of two minutes in the locker room.

Because I’m not lifting weights on the actual gym floor.  Because there are men who stare at you and like, want to see what you can do or something.  I don’t know why.  They just stare.  And it’s gross.  And I don’t have time for that.

 

G

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