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Saturday, January 5, 2008

The Thighs Have It

I’m at the age when my thighs angrily reject fat-free muffins. “Bring us biscuits,” they sneer, spraying sparks as I walk. I would like to see daylight between my thighs just one more time before I die. I’m not planning on leaving the world of supersized fries and double-thick shakes any time soon, mind you. But it’s nice to have a goal.
So after an unfortunate career change (from having one to suddenly not having one) I decided to join the health and fitness craze and submerge myself in aerobic (free) activity. It was either that or shop for a new interview suit in the chubby department. “Let’s go walking,” I suggested to my sister, Laudy.
“Why?” she gasped, regarding me with the look she usually reserved for artificial cheese.
“Well,” I said, suddenly inspired. “If we’re out of the house, we won’t be licking crumbs from the toaster oven tray. I got a nasty burn chasing banana bread bits last time.”
So every morning we walked at the mall. We walked 20 minutes in from the parking lot to the biscuit place. Then we walked 20 minutes back to our cars, chewing thoughtfully.
“You think we should pick up our pace?” I asked one day as we strolled along.
“I’m stuffed. I couldn’t eat another bite.” She held tightly to her biscuit wrapper as two elderly ladies dressed in sweat suits shot past us, whipping up an unruly breeze.
“Well, maybe we’ve missed the point.” I brushed sausage crumbs from my stomach. “I wore corduroy pants last week and almost set my underwear on fire. Smoke was coming out of my pants leg and a waitress poured tea in my lap trying to put me out.”
Ultimately I had to give up the “walk yourself thin” health regimen touted by all the women’s magazines. I gained so much weight, I found out my stretchy pants were in cahoots with a panty girdle I’d stuffed in the sock drawer.
For the New Year, I’m tinkering with an experimental new program: The Sports Bra Allover Workout. With the startling acumen that usually alerts me to uneaten pie crust on the plates of nearby diners, I noticed that I often bust buttons off of blouses in spontaneous bursts of rapid fire. I also snap underwires like rednecks crush beer cans, only I don’t use my forehead.
Therefore I have instituted a rigorous physical training program. I plan to keep fit with a three times weekly series of stretching exercises followed by a trip to Wal-Mart to try on sports bras. Granted that this is a pastime fraught with danger, I’m going to approach my new exercise program with a certain degree of caution and respect for spandex.
Yesterday when I attempted my first fatbuster fitting, I foolishly tried to pull the treacherous garment on over my head. I exercised not only myself, but two elderly saleswomen and a security guard who thought I was trying to rob the lingerie department when the wretched thing snapped smartly around my face like a ski mask leech and wouldn’t let go. My ears stuck through the armholes and I had to chew an air passage in the doubleknit to breathe.
I may have to give up on my new exercise program, though. The store manager red-carded me and banned me from lingerie. Maybe I’ll try Victoria’s Secret. It did wonders for Heidi Klum. She’s had three children, looks great, and gets a discount on all the undergarments that fight back.


Kate Boddie said...

Oh no. A mall walker??? But you're not that old. Although we're not the same age, I can feel the pain on the thighs. Hello? Italian? But at least you're not on the diet I am. I have a 232 cholesterol reading and I'm drinking a fruit drink with vanilla almond milk and tofu in it. I spent five minutes at the store squishing the container of tofu before I even put it in my cart. It's not really that bad though but since a bypass at 30 is not my goal, and neither is pill-popping, it's fish and vegetables for me.

Dawn said...


What is wrong with me that a fruit drink with vanilla almond milk and soy actually sounds GOOD? LOL

Amy, ROFLMAO as usual!! Too funny. Sounds like something that would have happened to me when I was working at Kohls... I would have been the salesperson... "Excuse me, miss, I understand you're suffocating, but if you chew a hole in that sports bra, you'll have to buy it." ;) JK... I wasn't that bad. Management was, however.

One time, the zipper got stuck on a skirt a customer was trying on. The poor woman! After we tried everything, I realized I was going to have to cut her out of it, so I went to the manager for a scissor.

"But, you can't CUT the skirt!" she said.

"Then YOU try to get her out of it," I told her. "I am NOT being paid enough for this."

She handed me the scissors and went FAR away.

Serena Casey said...

Love your voice, Amy! I've been enjoying reading your blog. Keep up the good work!