A Nasty Letter from Your Belly Fat
I just wanted to write you this letter because it seems that we haven’t been communicating very well lately. It’s almost like you don’t want me around. We’ve been together for, what, 20 years?
I can’t believe you would do this. It’s like you’re changing, becoming a different person and I’m not changing with you.
I like the arrangement that we have. I guess you’re not happy with just being comfortable anymore.
Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I heard you say that to someone the other day. What’s that about? Why would you want to be uncomfortable?
Haven’t I given you enough?
It seems like just yesterday we were hanging out on the couch, eating that delicious greasy pizza and then just an hour later finishing off the pint of Ben & Jerry’s. Those were the days.
Now it’s all protein and those nasty green things you eat. I think it’s called spinach?
Well let me tell you something, that does not sit well with me. I feel like I’m burning up down here, wasting away.
It’s like you want to get rid of me.
I also remember fondly the days when you’d go to the gym and do a nice leisurely spin on the elliptical. That thing wasn’t too bad. I didn’t feel sick and we only sweated a little bit. You only burned a little bit of me and then I went right back to normal, not like that feeling I got after you did that crazy Prowler thing. Wow, that was really a sick joke.
You’ve really got to quit this routine you are on. Every Tuesday and Thursday when you go and do those weight training workouts. Seriously….kettlebell swings? Push ups? I can’t even believe you’d treat me like that.
For hours and hours after that I feel like I’m burning up, melting away.
Then you don’t even take care of me. I want donuts and breakfast sandwiches after a training session like that. Just like the old days. Now you’re drinking that smoothie thing….protein powder, almond milk and berries?
Kill me now.
I wish you would go back to the once or twice a week at the gym, doing those nice steady exercises. It made me feel pretty good and I knew we’d always be together as long as you kept that up.
Now I’m not so sure.
I don’t know how much longer I can hang around. This routine is literally killing me.
It’s not like I’m going to go away easily though. If you want to fight this fight you better bring it. I can hang around longer than you think and a little grilled chicken and salad won’t scare me away that easily.
Except maybe that Prowler thing, keep that away, please….
Yours in comfort, gluttony, decreasing self-esteem and avoidance of bathing suits,