By DARREN HANDSCHUH
A co-worker, who shall remain nameless, approached my desk the other day and leaned towards me to make a friendly comment about another co-worker - not in a malicious way, but as more of an observance than anything else.
Co-worker No. 1 said it is good co-worker No. 2 is going to the gym and he did so while patting his flat stomach as an indication No. 2 needed to work on that particular area of his physique.
No. 1 then looked at my somewhat enhanced mid section and jokingly asked if I would be signing up for the gym any time soon.
Naturally, I jumped up and stabbed him in the throat with a pen. I mean, who wouldn't?
OK, I did not actually stab him, because I knew he was right. I have gotten rather soft in the middle and the lower areas and the arms, chest, shoulders...oh hell, just pick a body part.
I wonder if it is possible to have a flabby liver.
Anyway, the fact is I exercise at least five days a week, so I poked my belly and found underneath the outer layer of flab were rock-hard muscles.
OK, maybe not rock hard, but hard. OK, more like hard-ish. OK, I know there has to be muscles under there somewhere or I would not be able move.
The state of my girth is not a news flash to me, but thanks No. 1 for pointing it out. It is always good to know your co-workers care enough about your well being to point out something that could lead to me being at risk of health problems.
What he didn't realize is it also put him at risk of getting stabbed in the throat with a pen, that is assuming I could have moved my flabby arms fast enough to actually achieve the act of vengeance.
My doctor told me I need to lose 30 pounds – so I took immediate action and got a new doctor.
Thirty pounds is twice as much as my dog weighs and he is an entire creature.
At first I thought, “No problem, I will just wear lighter clothes” that should be good for a couple of pounds. Perhaps more cotton...
But even if you are planning to wear crepe paper, clothes really won't make a difference.
A different tact was taken when I found really baggy clothes made me look thinner. I was still the same weight, but I looked a little better. Well, not really, but I was able to fool myself for a little while anyway.
Seeing as how the baggy-clothes-method-of-looking-thin was not paying off, I bought a treadmill and I actually use it on a regular basis.
I have also taken up hiking in area hills with the dog at least once a week. I have not lost any weight, but the hound is sure looking buff. Mind you, he runs 10 kilometres for every 50 metres I walk.
Despite a couple of years of this fitness regime, not much has changed.
I still look like I am pregnant with twins as my belly bulge has remained fairly constant.
I know it is going to take more than exercise to get trim, it will mean tackling my addiction. You see, I am an addict, a candy addict. I just can't leave the goodies alone.
I know those sugar-laden temptresses are to blame for the bulging belly, but I just can't stop myself.
I have had a sweet tooth my entire life (and it is the only tooth that has never had a cavity) so at 40 something, I am finding it a challenge to no longer indulge in the tasty treats.
When I was younger, I could eat as much as I wanted of whatever I wanted anytime I wanted. Now, just walking past a cookie adds a pound to my protruding paunch.
They have patches to help people quit smoking, I wonder if you can get one to help you stop eating junk food. If not, there should be.