I need a new sport.
The last time I did something sports-like was when I drubbed my AI opponents in Madden 08 in my Playstation 2. But before I could score more touchdowns, thesis came knocking on my door and forced me to put my football career on hold. Also, the DVD of that game had just barely met my console unit when it broke down. Say NO to piracy!
But that was few months and few pounds ago. I still haven’t played any real sports, thanks mainly for lack of opportunities. Thankfully, the accursed CRS gave me a slot in PE basketball, so maybe that’s a good start to shed these ugly flabs that keep on adding on my idle body.
The last time I looked slimmer was when I was still a stupid high school student. Seven years later, my waistline has long overtaken my age and already on its way to early thirties. I really hope that it won’t get to middle age before I do.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not trying to be a teenage girl bitching about gaining weight – ok, about getting fat. I am way past that stage, and if there’s anything I should worry about, it is not about girls not liking the big me, but about me not liking me.
I have nothing against fat, or plump, or to be less derogatory, chubby, people. I sincerely believe that physical looks is a non-factor when it comes to starting relationships. Ok, it may be at first, but in the long run, what matters is the personality; the heart, mind and soul of that person, never mind the body. And guess who have bigger hearts but them big peeps.
It doesn’t help that when a friend comes around, he/she says without ado “Uy, nananaba tayo ah!” Others are more subtle but just as rude nonetheless: “Uy, ano bang kinakain natin?” If it is not for our friendship, it will be big revolution then and there.
I don’t like me tipping the scales one pound too much because I don’t really like it. I mean, unless I add a foot or two to my height, I look… disproportionate. Ok, this may sound OA than the bitchy girl, but for someone who likes to draw human anatomy, I really value proportion. As I see it, if I will allow my tummy to mutate further, I will look like siopao with limbs. Sure, small plump things are widdledy cuddledy cute, but I am not cute. So until such time when growth hormones are being sold like candies, I must find ways to trim this unwanted gut feeling.
Diet is not in my dictionary. I would rather die of exhaustion playing sports than die of starvation. I doubt if I can keep up with the by-the-numbers discipline of this weight-loss method (only 20 calories per this every 6:00 pm, 10 for that, etc… hey, I did not buy those food for math lessons!) Sure, there are various diet regimen, but who wants to eat weird grasses and leaves with nothing more than salt, arranged this way and that, and tossed thousand times? Not me – I live to eat. My mission in life is to embark on a gastronomic adventure to taste all of the world’s cuisines. Also, with so much hunger around us, any diet is a stupid thing. So eat and eat.
Liposuction. Aerobics. Gym. Pills. Nah, don’t have the money to burn.
So I’m back to sports. One sport that I like and I can do is basketball, which is why I am glad I got a slot in PE. Although the past meetings revealed how important continuous practice is; I cannot run, I cannot jump. Heck, I cannot even dribble the ball. I lack practice so much that my limbs are welded at the joints. It will be a double turnover if I injure myself without even starting.
(Oh yeah, another physical activity that comes to mind is the big S – sex. There have been various claims that sex burns lots of calories. Although I have yet to see a medical study to provide the confirmation and the supporting data, the idea itself is already enticing . Getting laid, of course, is another predicament. But that’s another story.)
Of course I am just making excuses. If I really wanted to work out, it would not be a problem. I am just plain lazy. But this is exactly why I dislike me going biggie. Every inch of bilbil equates to an hour of loafing around. And I hate doing the math.
Damn. I have a big problem.
