Dun dun…dun dun…DUN DUN! You know what that scary sound is? (Don’t read it like, “Dun dun. Dun. Dun.” Read it like, “DUNDUNDUNDUN” all Jaws style.) Something is coming. And that something is…swimsuit season.
I’m stupid. But anyway, that retarded intro to this post aside, I need to Get My Fat Ass Into Shape. Or should I say, my skinny-fat ass into shape. If you haven’t heard that cute little term, it describes people like me. People who look decent (okay, fine, awesome) but are actually not really in shape at all and are just possessed of one kickin’ metabolism. And if you’re thin and you’re reading this right now, it probably describes you, because most people just don’t work out. But do you know what happens if you count on that metabolism holding out for the rest of your life? YOU GET SUPER FAT AND KIDS POINT AT YOU IN THE GROCERY STORE BECAUSE THEY ARE AFRAID YOU’LL EAT THEM.
Okay, maybe not. But you will get fat. And even if your poor body somehow manages to keep you skinny while you wolf down Hungry-Man dinners and Keystone, it’s still not as sexy as being skinny and toned.
I mean, don’t let me cramp your style. There is nothing wrong with being whatever size you want to be. But just speaking on a personal level, I want to be thin and in-shape, not some gross tube of Cheetos and fattiness or whatever. I used to run track, so that’s obviously back on the menu to get myself looking extra-spicy (what? Fuck you. How many synonyms for “sexy” do you know? I’m not gonna go grab a thesaurus for this), as well as dancing, because it’s fun and it’s supposed to make you less chubbsy ubbsy. And some weight-lifting, because every fitness thing I read is all “blah blah blah calories blah blah don’t forget WEIGHTS weights weights weights weights!” And yoga, since that’s part of the daily hullabaloo anyway.
I mean, I’m sure I have a few good years left before the skinny-fat thing stops working for me, so I could just sit around eating Ben & Jerry’s instead. But that’s not my jam. (HAHA food puns.)