Ode to Comfort Foods/ Requiem for a Fat Girl.

Every week, I weigh in with my trainer, Chris. But not this week. This week, I am staging a rebellion!! I refuse to step on that scale. Why? Because I know that I have done the fool with my food, and I just cannot…I will not feel bad about it. I know that he is going to fuss and tell me he is disappointed. We will have another session of #trainerconfessions, and I will move on. Yet, I just don’t feel like going through it this week.

My trainer is really good; he is. I wouldn’t say it if were not so, but I am often …hmmm, is “disobedient” a good word? Yes, he would probably say I’m disobedient. Every week I get, “You don’t listen to nothing I tell you!” Meh…Sometimes I do; sometimes I don’t. The exercise regimen he outlines for me, I got that! I go hard in the paint. At least my version of going hard. But the food part, not so much. I have good intentions, and I do well with my meal prepping—Monday through Friday. On the weekends? HA!!! I know that I can’t outwork a bad diet. I know that! I know that fitness is 20% exercise and 80% nutrition. I KNOW THAT. I know that I can’t keep doing things the same way and expecting a different result. I know ALL of that…But I miss food, dammit!

I miss Cocoa Pebbles and Fruit Loops.

I miss Little Debbie Donut Sticks and Oatmeal Cakes.

Strolling pizza buffets as if I were taking walks through the park.

Hamburgers…oh how I miss thee! And not turkey burgers. I want ground beef. With two slices of cheese, onions, and bacon, on a nice buttery, toasted bun.  I had one, too, on Thursday, when I went to the movies! And, it was DELICIOUS!

I miss Paul’s Donuts on Hemphill. Nothing beats that warm, soft, sugary pastry that just melts in my mouth.

I miss Braum’s Ice Cream and the 31 flavors of Baskin-Robbins. On the way home from the gym on Thursday evenings, I often glance at the Braum’s Ice Cream Parlor on the side of the freeway. “Let me have an ice cream sundae, please. Vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup, not hot fudge. Whip Cream, no nuts, and extra cherries.” My order is cemented in my mind. I’m always tempted to exit, but I force myself to keep driving because…the scale!

I miss the catfish basket from Lisa’s chicken.  There’s one right in front of the gym. As I leave class, the aroma of Lisa’s wafts through the air like mist on a dewy morning. I get weak, I tell you!

And I miss Popeye’s, and Chicken Express…one day we shall meet again. Maybe this Friday when I can stay at home and enjoy some ratchet TV in my robe.

I miss Cherry Pepsi and Cherry Coke. If they didn’t have so many calories, I would get a 2-liter bottle and freeze it until it was slushy. Then after my long day at work, I would drink like it like it was a gin and tonic.

Oh, how I miss my comfort foods! They got me through so many trials in my life. Crazy parents at school? I got a honey bun from the vending machine to calm my nerves. My Granny died? Chicken and 7-up cake made my day. Relationship blues? Cookies and cake were food for my tears. Food was my friend, and I miss my BFF!

But what I don’t miss is not being able to bend over and tie my shoes. I don’t miss the pain in my legs when I stand too long. I don’t miss wondering if my seatbelt is too tight because it’s stuck or because I’m just fat. I don’t miss those things at all.

I’ll do better next week…but I’m still not weighing in tomorrow! #resist! #chubbygirlblues

P.S. This weigh-in revolution was the brain child of my line sister and friend, Kim! We hatched this plan on Friday night, and I wrote this opus after we agreed to stand in solidarity. Well, let me tell y’all what happened Saturday morning. We walked in the gym Saturday morning, and I said, “I’m ain’t doing it!” She said, “Yeah… we’re not weighing in.” But something in my spirit knew her response sounded kinda shaky. I went to the restroom and came out only to find out that Kim had sold me out! Chris is a mastermind at divide-and-conquer. He’s like a ninja! I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone with him. I weighed in after all because the weigh-in revolution was televised via Kim. Regrettably, I kicked her out of Wakanda (she can only cross her arms at the bottom), and then I gave her a good tongue lashing because she violated girl code! Thus, the topic of my next blog. I must remind you heifers of the rules!