At 20 Pounds Over

Our annual physical exam just revealed that I am 20 lbs. overweight. Not that I didn’t expect it. I feel each of those pounds everyday. Well, at least the 10 units of them.

I think I have always been 10 lbs. overweight. Ever since I hit puberty, my metabolism has decided to slow itself down. That’s when I started collecting the extra pounds.

However still, during the peak of our preparations for our high school intramurals, when our cheering practice hours hit the inhumane level, I’d lose five to eight pounds, thus leaving me a little above my desirable body weight given my height, which some experts may say is forgivable/negligible.

It amazes me how I was born at around six pounds heavy then gained the extra 100++ lbs today. Must be due to all I’ve eaten, drank and munched in small quantities for 27 years. It helps that nowadays, going up and down the stairs is the only exercise I get.

It is not so easy to believe that at one point in my younger years, my mom told me, “Maawa ka naman sa katawan mo. Kumain ka.”

Oh how I remember that so well! I didn’t realize then that the day will come when I’ll be telling myself, “Maawa ka naman sa katawan mo. Tama ka na sa pagkain.”

The thing is, in my formative years, I’d say that’s from birth to the years prior to puberty, I was always thin. I never really had problems with people noticing my weight except for my mom, of course. But no one really nagged or teased me about being fat. So I wasn’t designed to be conscious of my weight.

And when I started getting fat, so to speak, I didn’t mind people telling me that I am bigger than I am supposed to be. I let them say their piece and that’s about it. Their opinion about my weight doesn’t damage me at all.

The only time I get bothered by the extra weight is when I start feeling them. When the bulges around my waist impede my breathing. When I have a hard time finding the clothes that fit me perfectly. When I get tired easily just by doing not-so-strenuous work. When I can’t swim one lap because I have to stop and catch my breath. When the clothes I usually wear suddenly “shrinks” and, unfortunately, my uniforms are not immune to “shrinking.” When I look in the mirror and wonder for a second if I’m pregnant. Yikes!

Perhaps the last one drove me to enroll myself one fateful day at a gym that disguises itself as a club. That and a bit of peer coaxing. Even I cannot believe I did that. As much as I would like to say that it was good while it lasted, it wasn’t.

A big chunk of it is because of me. I can barely find the will inside me to commit to a lifestyle that includes voluntarily exercising. I guess I didn’t have the motivation they were pointing out. The one which is supposed to get me started and get me into the habit which in turn was supposed to keep me going.

Let me clarify that I am not all that lazy. I do sports as long as I find it fun. Going to the gym, I mean club, wasn’t fun for me. I keep on wondering why the hell I am paying big bucks to be tortured by some machine. The only consolation I had was the cable TV but we have cable at home so it didn’t really matter. At the end of it all, I still would have rather jogged outside or rode a bike al fresco than in some enclosed room with strangers who are dealing with more than just weight problems of their own.

It was definitely money not well spent. I grieve for the dream camera that could have been mine if only…

But that’s life! We don’t really make good choices all the time right? At least I learned something. Like trying not to bite off something more than I can chew.

If only I’d do that faithfully, I guess I be saying goodbye to the extra weight. And then I wouldn’t feel crappy in my tight uniform.