Kermit had it all wrong, I tell you. It is easy to be green - with envy, that is. It's hard for me not to be constantly comparing myself to others, especially my sisters, who are both gorgeous (check one out at the blog labeled "that's whack" and see for yourself). Both of them work out religiously, (recall my mention of them being fitness instructors) so I should not be envious. They are not one of those bitches who can eat whatever they want and never gain a pound (sorry, bitches-who-can, but that's my word for you) But I envy. A lot.
What spouted my latest green streak? The fact that I weight watchered myself crazy last week, and worked out three times and only lost a half a pound, which I could do by taking a crap. How does this relate to my envy? Hang on, I'm getting there - so impatient, you readers. I went and visited my fitness crazy brother over the weekend, and was so restrained in my eating, or so I thought. I did not snack, despite being in the mall with Cinnabons, cookies and cinnamon sugar pretzels. I ate a chicken wrap with no dressing, avoiding the Chik-fil-a waffle fries and chicken club sandwich that I love. When dining out, I only ate half of the chicken, downed my salad, and ate three slices of potato, taking the rest to-go and giving it to my baby bro. We DID go and get spinach and artichoke dip, but left a good portion of chips and half of the dip on the plate. I did not order popcorn at the movies, and chewed gum instead. I had three drinks that day (darn empty calories!). Ok, so a few indisgressions, but overall there was restraint! sacrifice! moderation! good judgment! On Sunday we went for breakfast, and I had a soufle and a bagel (which I knew were high points, but most things at Panera are high points) and then only a low-fat balogna sandwich the entire rest of the day. !!! The goodness on my part continues!
So... my sister let me know that she pigged out all weekend. Buffet breakfast with chocolate cake. And I know she did it up right - like I would do if I could get away with it. And she can get away with it!! She will gain a couple of pounds, but lose those plus another couple by the end of the week because of her workout schedule. Color me green.
And green about all of their workout schedules, ESPECIALLY (somehow - totally unfair and I know it) my sister Sahm (names changed to protect the innocent). She's the one who indulged in the buffet. She works out five days per week, at least 90 minutes a pop. Why should this make me jealous? Because she does it after rousing from her bed-nest at about 9:00 a.m., then getting herself and kids around to go to the Y where she exercises guilt-free while her children are in the daycare room. My other sister does daycare in her home, so has a slightly bigger challenge, and my brother works but has no kids so he can just go to the gym right after work.
And I know that my life is good. And that they wish they had some of the things that I have (career that I love). But DAMN IT! My work out options, and at this point I am convinced that the power of exercise is phenomenal in the realm of keeping one's weight low, are for shit - 6 a.m. or 9 p.m. So I have to then eat nothing, pretty much, and deal with crappy workout times to avoid being "the fat sibling."
So there it is, my green rant. Love does not envy? In my case it does. You may all go and murmur to yourselves about what a terrible person I am now.
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2 comments:
Hey! I wake up at 8:15 I'll have you know! And I can't help it that I don't have any lofty career goals (or any career goals for that matter, which makes it a good thing I married a doctor). AND I'm just going to let everyone out there know that when the two of us go out YOU get hit on, not me, so apparently you are much sexier than me (whom men refer to as "the bitchy one").
I never claimed to be rational in this blog. The title includes the qualifying word "ranting." And yes, I do get hit on when we go out sometimes. My mother's theory is that it is because I make eye contact, which is true. So, not so much that I am sexier, but that men are dumb and think, "Hey, she looked at me! She'll probably want to do me (because slutty women give eye contact), so I should go and hit on her."
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