Nutritional Overachiever

I poured myself into my new joggy bottoms, the ones that were reduced to £3 for being a rather peculiar shade of navy blue and discomfortingly bum-bifurcating. They are a size 18 and rather tight around the waist.

I squeezed into my new sports boob-flattener, although not without a titanic three-way struggle for supremacy between me, the bra, and my bosum. The bra is also a size 18, and crushes me around the ribs. In the end, I was obliged to physically grasp each of my boobs, which were escaping wobblesomely towards my double-chins, and mercilessly ram them down into the constrictive captivity of the industrial elastic.

I rootled in the cupboard and eventually extracted a dust-encrusted pair of (what were once) sparkling white running shoes. They were cheap, hence quite noticeably uncool, and have absurdly long, stretchy laces which I spent 15 procrastinating minutes attempting to shorten by re-lacing.

I looked in the mirror to view the overall ensemble and winced, as last night’s shopping trip into Stratford had been rainy (and umbrella-less), and my (well-overdue-for-cutting) hair had gone… strange. Think: shapeless hybrid between an Old English Sheepdog

shaggy-dulux-dog

and Farrah Fawcett circa the Cannonball Run,

farrah

but sadly deficient in both the cute and the sex appeal, respectively. (Note to self: double-check I have that the right way around before hitting ‘Publish’.)

But hey! No-one will care, surely? No-one checks out the fat woman at the gym. No-one will even bother smirking at the fashion disaster-encased lard. I’m having my hair cut on Tuesday. No-one will ever remember I looked like this.

I slunk unobtrusively through the main doors and furtively up the stairs.

“Hi! You’re a new member? Stand just over there for your membership photo, please!”

Arse.

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12 Responses

  1. You have a sports boob flattener, too?

    Mind you, since spawn look at my knockers with such disdain the bloody things till deflated three cup sizes and made a bid for my navel.

    J

  2. But on the plus side. Well done on actually reaching the gym rather than procrastinating about it (this is where I am at just now).

  3. Go you! It is my view that there is a very, very small sub-group of people that look good while exercising. Ignore them. And I’m not going to wish you luck at the gym either, just strength to achieve your goals.

  4. Only prats look good at the gym. Its a well proven and very scientific fact!

    All of my gym membership photos make me look like those photos on the CSI shows that they show people of the dead person in the morgue.

    I think its a right of passage!

    Good on you for getting there!

  5. ah yes, the gym picture. I had to have mine taken after a workout once. Nice.

  6. But you went! Congrats!! YAY!! How was the childcare?

  7. You went to the gym?! Woman, you are my HERO. I loathe the gym, will not set FOOT in the gym, think gyms are of the devil himself. You go with your bad self! No one will look at that picture anyway.

  8. Well done to you! I dread to think how much the amazing sportsbra cost. They seem to make these things with the small-breasted in mind, which is ridiculous.

    Getting yourself started is the hardest part. Seriously. Step one achieved, hurrah!

  9. Congratulations on starting to run – nothing peels off weight faster, not swimming, not biking, not Pilates, not nuthin’. (I’d do it myself were my knees not powdered from years of the same….)

    You win thousands of points for even setting foot in the gym. And I think the membership-card photograph is designed as humiliation: the digital image on my gym’s cards are vertically compressed so much that even Kate Moss would resemble a fat homunculus.

  10. Membership photo. The gits.

    Oh come now, the Farah Sheepdog is very attractive. Please don’t tell me it’s not attractive. It’s the only thing my hair ever does.

    Good luck. I am far too chicken to ever go to a gym, so I am staring at you in wonderstruck awe and admiration.

  11. Ditto what Emily said – if they look good at the gym then they don’t have a life.

    And they all have camel toes.

    Just check it for yourself.

  12. […] topic again. Concerning which there have been too many posts, I know, but until I figure out which one of you bastards made me fat how to take […]

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