Thursday, June 17, 2010

Get Ready for the Next Potato Famine

"Saints be gloried, we haven't had such as a wee crumb in a month, Sharon. Tis a blessed ting that the good Lord provided us with your fat wings to sustain us through this wretched Potato Famine".

I'm a perfect amalgamation of German and Irish that equates into an amazing ability to store fat. I'm a little French too but I didn't get any of that lovely olive skin, delicate features, nor the tousled hair. Just some b.o.

It doesn't matter how much I exercise and diet I will always have some tummy fat and, of course, my lovable fat wings. The Italians have the ass fat and, as much as they'd like to complain about it, it's way better than tummy fat. Nobody's writing rap about lovin' the big bellies.

Getting in shape for the next triathlon requires me to exert myself. I must run, ride, and swim. And I do. I have been changing my eating patterns thanks to Weight Watchers - I love it - but I started to gain weight. I had lost over 17 pounds since October and then it started to come back again, like an ex-boyfriend that just won't go away, no matter how many times you don't return his calls because he has the sex appeal of your Uncle George who doesn't clip his toenails and when he walks on the wood floor it sounds like castanets.

I complained to Thomas, he's my pit crew for the upcoming triathlon, and he asked me if I've been tired lately. "Oh my God, how did you know?" I had been sleeping 9-11 hours a night and practically falling asleep in the afternoon. Then he said something that made me happy and afraid all at once: "You are [suffering*] from overtraining. You need to increase your calories and decrease your exercise."

This assignment is not as easy as it sounds. After all the hard work I've done, it's a big risk to start eating more and decrease exercise. It's downright counter-intuitive. But I had tried everything else and I just kept gaining weight, feeling sleepy, and wanting to give up the whole Weight Watchers thing. Fuck it.

I read this article and decided to give it a try. Since then, I lost 1.2 pounds the first week and 1.6 the second week. The weight is still coming off, I feel great, look pretty good, and have a ton of energy for exercising. Now, if I could just do something about my cheap Irish skin.

* I think he should have said "suffering" so I added it here.


  1. God damnit. If only I had more French in me and my frizz-tastic hair looked more tousled, and I were Italian with that skin and those curvy hips! All my problems would be solved! But alas I am also so Irish and German it hurts. ...I have a theory, however, that tan people just show their muscle better. So maybe we have tons but it's just masked by our Irish skin. We can't win. C'est la vie.

  2. Marci - We can win! Just wait until the next potato famine. Or the next freckle contest. Or, when frizzy hair finally comes in style. Plus, we don't have to deal with the body hair "issues" that "they" have.

  3. ok you two. watch it. thank goodness 'we' tan, that is the only way to deter from the giant ass and the huge man arms that 'we' ended up with (i am using the royal 'we' hoping that someone else looks like me - half man half gigantic ass and boobs)
    besides, sharon. shoudn't those little fat wings act like flippers for your arms when you are swimming to give you a little extra something to glide through the water? Think of them as little fat fins.