Dread and gloom. That should have been my music for this morning as I stood in my bathroom and prepared to step on the scale. Vacation was gonna catch up with me right here. I got up uber early this am and met BFF at the Y after her work shift to ride the fat jiggling bike. She is gonna kick my flass into shape I tell ya! No rest for the weary! Pretty sure the conversation went like this: The Brain: “Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Pinky: “I think so, Brain, but how are we going to make pencils that taste like bacon? Or maybe we should make bacon that tastes like pencils. Narf.” That’s how awake I was at 0720 this am. I did notice something though as my sweat was running down the end of my nose….I was able to increase the level of the bike without pain today. Please let the steroids have kicked in! It doesn’t feel as sore so hopefully no tear and no MRI in my future. So despite having eaten my way through Memphis and creating a tsunami in the pool the one time, really the only working out I accomplished was walking. A LOT of walking. However, this really made me dread the scale this am. I needed to know though. Were the biscuits and gravy giggling from my sides knowing I would be up in weight. Pretty sure I ate enough to feed a third world country and my arteries are probably clogging right now thinking about all the fried food I had. Fried seems to be its own category in the South. Fried green tomatoes, fried mac and cheese, and even fried pickles. Yes. Fried pickles were on every menu I saw. I should have tried them but that thought was a little scary to me. Pretty sure some pregnant woman thought up the idea to deep fat fry a pickle. Back to the scenario this am after leaving my greasy imprint on the fat jiggling bike, I decided to step on the scale to see the damage Memphis had done to the experiment. The doom song was playing like this:
I took a deep breath, stepped on the scale and looked down. Shut the front door! THAT can’t be right! Wait…I need to weigh myself again. Is that seriously the right number? It was! Anticipating at least a five-pound gain, I was not prepared for what the scale said to me this am. HALF A POUND GAIN? That’s it? WHAT? Holy experiment on vacation Batman! I was only up half a pound? The fat girl dance of joy then occurred. Until I caught a glimpse of that in the bathroom mirror. Ew. Don’t do that where you can see yourself naked ever again. I was so expecting such a bigger gain that I could not believe my eyes. Pretty sure I weighed myself three or four times. Same number every time. WOW. I guess I didn’t do too bad a job on vacation then despite my own attempts to become fatter. Remember the buffet. This gives me hope for when I go to DL next time because I know I won’t work out there. There is so much walking there. Plus I spend so much time in the park, I don’t know how I would even find the time to work out. And it’s DL….I have NEVER worked out while I am there and probably am not gonna start this trip. It’s the Happiest Place On Earth and to a fat girl that category does NOT include working out. True story.
It’s back to reality for me tonight with work so I am gonna take my half a pound up from eating my way through Memphis (I might not have to wear that fat Elvis jumpsuit I bought) and stuff it into some scrubs. This means another early workout session to help keep me on track. I like to think maybe it won’t be as fat jiggling as today and maybe if I can poop some more I will be half a pound lighter. You never know. A fat girl can dream. Where’s my colon cleanse again? It’s been one week since the steroid shot so only one more week of low impact and then I am able to try to do high impact again if I want or can. We shall see.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. Almost from the shock of only gaining half a pound but I didn’t die. I am fat girl with only half a pound of extra greasy fat jiggling on her post vacation. The experiment continues…..