I’ve always been one of the thinnest people I know, against all odds. And by “against all odds” I mean I eat greasy food and junk food without abandon and never exercise. Okay, one time winter quarter I went to the gym — it was worth it when a chick at Hundo drunkenly bleared, “Hey, you look familiar. I saw you at the gym, didn’t I [hic]?” — but that made no significant impact on my physique. I guess the bottom line is that I never turned something down that looked tasty or entertained thoughts of calories or trans fat.
But now I’ve decided to be “healthier.” I bought a few free weights (five pounders, I’m so intense), I’ve stopped snacking (the Oreo Cakesters on my bedstand just sit there, uneaten, glaring at me), and I have vague plans to start running. I even bought, like, five cartons of fruit (berries are delicious), and I start each day with a zip loc baggie of organic cereal and a carton of skim milk.
I’m not sure why I’m doing this, exactly. I don’t want to lose weight — hell, I’m underweight. I guess it just occurred to me that I’m destroying my arteries and I’d like to live past 40. I also like the idea of being stronger, more toned and more-inshape… at least able to walk up a broken escalator without panting.
But I hate the image of “the healthy girl.” I loved being the chick in the Sargent grill line who, when everyone else is getting grilled chicken to chop up and put in a salad, ordered a double cheeseburger. When my roommate would point out the grease dripping all over my plate, I’d grin and take an exaggerated bite. I love snorting at the prospect of the gym, ordering dessert, chowing down on eight pounds of eggs and sloppily-made grilled cheese in the frat kitchen. I’m really attached to the image of the laid-back girl who doesn’t give a damn what she eats, and I’m not sure how much of this “healthy lifestyle” I’ll be willing to maintain at its expense once school starts up again.
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Tags: food, healthy, sure don't want to do work
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