Exercise | BulgingButtons

August 24, 2013
by BulgingButtons 1 Comment

No Whales Allowed

My sweetheart is not a swimmer. He never learned how growing up, and he’s just not that comfortable in the water. I, on the other hand, am a fish. Or, according to a major swimsuit manufacturer, perhaps a whale.

Here’s what happened. My sweetie was perusing a website looking for a suit. He knows I love the water, and I spend a fair amount of time in our backyard pool. On hot summer days he’ll sit out with me and bake as I enjoy the lovely feeling of being surrounded by soothing cooling water. I urge him to come in, but his response has always been that he can’t because he doesn’t have a swim suit. Uh huh.

http://www.jacketflap.com/megablog/index.asp?tagid=1393&tag=editors

From There’s a Whale in my Swimming Pool

He has gone to this website before. He has chosen his swim suit. He has said he will order it. He has not. Anyway, he was there again today and saw that they advertised plus sized suits for women. Being the wonderful man he is, he thought there might be a nice one for me.

From the other room he asked what size I wore. I didn’t know what sizing system this manufacturer used so I couldn’t give him an answer. Some go by dress sizes, some follow the 2X, 3X, etc. model, and some go by bust size. I joined him at the computer and we clicked on their sizing chart.

Okay, here we go. According to them a 14 is XL, a 16 is 2XL and an 18 is 3XL. Only a very few styles were offered in the 3XL (which, in the normal world is usually a 22-24). Hmmmm. It seems to me that while they are offering a few extended sizes the promise of plus sizes is merely a tease.

There is a whole world of fat women out there longing for quality products that fit. I just can’t quite figure out why manufacturers don’t want our business. Guess I’ll keep getting my Catalina swimsuits. They always fit and they are inexpensive. And the best part about them? They never make me feel like a whale!

August 20, 2013
by BulgingButtons 10 Comments

Daily Prompt: The Full Moon

Otherwise known as, “Boy, that’s pretty, and by the way, what the hell has happened to me?”

The moon was high in the sky, lighting up my dinky backyard far better than the lone candle and bedroom windows could have. It was nearing midnight and I was in the yard in a swimsuit, rather than in bed in pajamas. What was I thinking? It wasn’t a weekend, and my alarm was set, as it always is during the week, for 5:25 am. Hell hour. I shudder just thinking about it. Every morning it’s the same. I’m sleeping peacefully when all of a sudden this happy little electronic chirping drills its way into my slumbering skull. It feels like I’ve been asleep for about three minutes when it happens, and I wish it would stop. Oh, how I wish it would stop.

Because of this hellish wake-up time, I am usually pretty beat by ten or ten thirty at night. Well, the full moon night was slightly different. Sure, I was tired, but I was also restless. I had some energy that needed to be spent, or I would toss and turn all night. I decided to take advantage of the warm evening and hit the pool. I changed, grabbed my towel, and headed out back.

It didn’t occur to me right away, but eventually I noticed that the night was really pretty. The moon’s glow lit the yard in a most flattering light, and I felt energized as I entered the water. It was glorious, not too hot, not too cold. At that moment the moon took over. Instead of my usual thirty minutes of water exercise, I decided to set a distance goal. My moon addled brain decided to do one hundred walking laps of the pool. Across and back, one. Across and back, two. I really started to get into a groove. I loved it. I was focused and working and had no trouble tracking my progress. With each footfall I mentally said the lap I was on. “Eighty-six, eighty-six, eighty-six, eighty-six…” Crazy? Maybe, but it kept me moving.

It took me a long time. Longer than thirty minutes. Funny thing, though, I loved it. Who was this late night full moon exerciser? I don’t know, but I’m hopeful that it won’t take another full moon until I meet her again.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/daily-prompt-nighttime/

August 4, 2013
by BulgingButtons 2 Comments

Oreo Habit

I am the girl with the Oreo habit. Ok, not a girl anymore, a full-fledged middle aged woman. I’m much too old to have an Oreo habit. But really it’s not an actual Oreo habit, it’s a sweet habit. No, that’s not even it. It’s a food habit. And it’s more than a habit, it’s an all out obsession. There, I said it. Will that make it go away? Of course not. I wish it were that simple. A public declaration, a little shaming and humiliation, a few minutes of feeling bad, then presto change-o… no more problem! I would do it. I really would. You want me to wear a sign for a day?Put it on the blog? Confess my sins to a talk show host? Fine.

I tried out for the Biggest Loser. I put on a dress that both made me look cute and made me look fat. I did my hair and make up , to the best of my ability, then toddled off to a local mall with folding chairs and my sweet boyfriend (who LOVES a big woman, lucky for me). I sat in line for hours, filling out forms and chatting with other fat women. Then I got my chance. I filed into the private space along with about a dozen other fat people and sat at the table with a giant grin pasted across my face. “Look at me! I’m fat! I have personality! Pick me, pick me!” But they didn’t. Secretly I was relieved. After all, I have a kid and a dog and a boyfriend and a job and a life. How could I jet off to “the ranch” to reinvent myself? And deep down the bigger question, how could I possibly face the humiliation of trying to do it on national t.v.?

I was terrified that they might pick me. After all, I had plenty to lose, I’m reasonably cute, and I’m pretty articulate. I reasoned that they didn’t want someone who would just cry and mumble the whole time. Not that I wouldn’t cry. I’m sure I would cry buckets. In fact, I had already decided that Jillian and Bob were too intense for me, so I would HAVE to be on Dolvett’s team. Do you think they take requests?

Anyway, that was over a year ago, and America managed another whole season of Biggest Loser without me. I didn’t watch. Well, not much anyway. I tend to feel too guilty. I much prefer Extreme Weightloss. One episode and it’s over. Besides, I like the one on one approach, and who could possibly resist Chris Powell? With him training me I would have to succeed, right? Maybe it’s time for another try out.