The Substantial Soiled Chamois
Roly Poly Racin Rick
These chumps, suckas, dopes, nincompoops, goobers, schelps, lummoxs . . . . they're all doing it wrong. You see, if you've ever visited any of their blogs, you'd be more than aware of their "issues" with weight. More specifically, trying to lose it for riding season. Pfffftt . . .
Don't get me wrong, I don't agree that any of them need to lose any weight . . . I love each and every one of them as they are.
Grwwwwwwwrrrrr . . . they're all so shhhhhexy.
But weight, or how we perceive our own weight, is relative and often based on personal perception of what we 'think' we should weigh. I get it. I was there.
I fought the problem. I struggled through the cravings, the mid-night trips to the fridge, the justifying eating foods that I shouldn't be eating, the stealing co-workers food from the staff room, hiding stashes of food, pizza shops on speed dial, buying chocolate by the pallet, the feelings of guilt then the depriving myself, the dieting.
No more I say. NO MORE.
What I have finally figured out is to cease fighting the problem and to embrace my flabby folds with two pudgy hands and wiggly giggly open arms.
If it looks like a duck, acts like a duck, sounds like a duck . . . . then it must be a duck.
Or . . . a Clydesdale.