(Mr. Kundera, you don’t know me and I’ve only heard of you, so patas lang muna tayo ha?)
I have declared myself officially fat. If I don’t suck my gut in, I look four months pregnant. I cannot fit into ALL the pants I bought two years ago. They’re mostly straight cut denims that do not go out of style, so yes, not being able to wear them upsets me. I must buy blouses in medium now, otherwise they will only conspire to expose my midriff like an overstuffed suman. A really comfortable fit would be in large, but as I am barely five feet tall, I would look like a walking sack of rice in a large-sized blouse.
I miss the days when I lived two long blocks and a pedestrian overpass away from the office. I used to climb the Estrella overpass at least four times in a day—in the morning to go to work, home to lunch with my family, back again to work and home again at quitting time. At least once a week there would be an additional back and forth trip, when I forgot something on my table or when one of the servers needed a manual restart. All that climbing up and down the overpass was good for my legs and toned my belly so taut I needed a belt to hold up most of my denims. Now I need Manila hemp to bring the button and the hole, hook and the eye, together.
Yep, I had a pretty good figure back then, if I may say so myself. (Hey, this is my blog, allow me my fantasies.) I could wear body hugging knit shirts over stretch pants and actually get them on with nary a jump. Now I have one of those body huggers left, and unknowingly had my picture taken, semi-profile. I looked like a flour sack that had been left in a corner for several months, in a damp room.
I need exercise. Jogging? If I do it in place, maybe. Most of the time I’ll have to be doing it with an 11-kilo baby over one shoulder. Good for the legs, bad for the biceps. Da hubby thinks I should go to a gym. I raise my eyebrow at that. There are no gyms in Iligan, and why is he telling me to go to a gym … does he think i’m FAT?
Swimming, now there’s something I used to do a lot of. The village I used to live in back in Cebu had a pool where I could swim unlimited hours for 25 pesos. Now there is no shortage of pools in Iligan, but no shortage of swimmers either, so you really can’t do laps, so that’s out too. When we move back to Manila we’ll be living near the original Lozada swimming school in Tambo, Paranaque, so maybe I’ll swim THEN.
Sit-ups, pull-ups, aerobics … I do those all the time when I put my little piglet to sleep and she refuses … lie down, sit up, lie down, sit up again. I hold her by the arms when she tries to go up the stairs adult-fashion, that’s semi-weightlifting and bicep toning and aerobics. I end up sweating each time.
Buy plus size clothing, da hubby says, when he hears me complaining I can’t fit into my clothes anymore. But that’s like giving up! I say. I don’t want to buy fat clothes, that means admitting I’m fat.
Hey, didn’t I just do that?
comic strips from Pugad Baboy ©PMJr