Finally hit the gym!
I am becoming FAT!
I was born over weight and it has been 19 years since then that I have been bawling about it. I was never too fat, but never optimum either. It is like all the food that my mom forced down my throat would never churn up in the intestine.
Who likes being fat and being called fat? Whenever I wear something that fits my skin, I feel so conscious! Is everyone staring at me? Am I awkward? I should be more confident, what if I am fat. I am Fat!
People who love me think I am perfect, but yesterday was not one of the very happy days when they would say that and I would listen while eating some more Choco pies. You want to know what actually happened. One of my favorite T shirts, tugged against my body. Do you even know what that means to a girl?
I am becoming Fat!
I cried again and this time mom came out of her room, stood at the door for some time. I looked back at her, with teary eyes (not that teary though, they were pseudo tears).
What do you want me to do? She said. You won’t go swimming cos you don’t want to tan yourself. You won’t go to gym cos they don’t have a trainer here (The local club gym at RSI). We bore you, so you don’t want to go walking with us. And of course, you can’t RUN!
I opened my mouth to retort but she stopped me. I am not going to hear any of your stupid and illogical explanations from now! You are joining the city gym from tomorrow, which will have a trainer and you will have a schedule! Tell me you got it?
I got it. The next morning I woke up at 6 and got dressed in my loose T-shirt and black trousers which was neatly folded on my rack and had been there since I had last been to a gym which was one and a half years back. In half an hour, I was doing sit ups, squats, crunches, lunges and other terms that I don’t remember. At first, I thought that was all. And then, he announced, that the warm up was done for today, more to come up tomorrow. Then came more and more stretches and I was already numb on my legs. I go to him and he says that I have less energy in my body. I have weak feet. My thighs need a lot of exercise. And I walk weird. I needed to change that too. I listened and waited for the dismissal. The dismissal was: Burn 60-70 calories on the treadmill. You know how to walk that. Don’t you?
Being fat is not a big deal. If people say or make fun of you, let them, who cares? But if someone inside you accuses you of being a lazy ass, then you gotta listen to that. You have to move on. Not to prove anyone. Never. That would be royally sad. People have different ways of working on their body. I can’t control diet. I love food and moreover, I already have a small appetite. Can’t possibly reduce that… I can’t jog also! Trust me. If you think you are the laziest person, then you have to meet me! You will feel lot better. Anyways, I guess I needed this and so here am I. After my first day at the concentration camp, where there is no pity, only pain, lots of calorie burning pain, I hope I stick on to them. I hope the pain atleast makes me and my mirror happy! And of course, my mom too!