In defense of getting fat

I am considering making the conscious decision to let myself get fat.

Just hear me out for a second.

I understand the health implications. Being overweight puts you at risk for, well, many things. But I also have to ask - why do I know smokers that are likely to live til their 90's or beyond? I bet anyone reading this knows people with bad habits - smoke too much, eat too much, drink too much - that have lived longer than others who've done everything right.

Furthermore, I'm not interested in becoming morbidly obese. I'm thinking a comfortable 190 lbs or so (I'm tall for a woman, a bit over 5'9", so that's not too terribly fat). Yes, I'll look a bit heavy, but not to the point where people will make beeping noises when I back up.

Aside from the health implications, though, I'm having a tough time thinking of any reason not to completely embrace being on the heavy side.

First of all, it's not like I'm limiting my clothing options. The main thing that pisses me off about gaining weight is that my clothes feel tight. But if I were prepared for it, I think I could probably find a way to dress that would still look attractive. Fashion has come a long way. Am I going to be able to wear the same styles as the supermodels? No. But curvy women aren't limited like they used to be. Hell, I can think of three stylish places to shop right off the top of my head. Plus-sized these days doesn't need to equal frumpy.

Secondly, it would save me lots of angst. I spend a lot of time worrying about what I should or shouldn't eat, and whether I've exercised enough recently, and if my butt looks big, or if my thighs look too jiggly. If I just let myself go, I wouldn't really have to worry about any of that crap. Does my butt look big? Why, yes, it does, thank you for asking! Have I exercised enough recently? Who the hell cares, we can go for a walk while we search out some cake!

Third, and this is a really big one: I. Love. Food. Going back to the angst for a second, you don't understand what kind of thought process goes through the typical woman's head when going out to eat at a restaurant. "What can I eat? Well I don't want another salad. But everything else is deep fried. And really, the salads aren't much better with all the crap they're loaded with. So I may as well indulge and get the burger. But I've been eating so much crap lately, it's all going straight to my thighs. Why don't they have some plain broiled chicken or something? Wait, we're getting appetizers? Deep fried mozzarella? Aw, hell. Well maybe just one." And on. And on. And on.

Followed by the ensuing guilt. And don't get me started on the internal monologues associated with whether or not to get dessert. Really, it'd be great if I could just look at food without arguing with it.

Food is an experience. I love it. And while I've had some success, it's pretty tough to find food that's satisfying without also packing on some pretty hefty pounds. I just ate a dinner roll covered with garlic butter. Don't tell me I can replace that with romaine slathered in a low-cal balsamic. I'm sick of having to settle for cardboard just because I'm on some frivolous, pointless, never-ending quest to have a six-pack. Particularly when other things in life are going wrong, it's nice to know that at the end of the day, you can go home, settle in with the libation of your choice, and devour an entire plate of pasta smothered in Alfredo sauce, and it will be delicious. Food is always There for you.

Plus, I don't have to stop trying to have good nutrition. I like veggies. I prefer them covered in ranch. Or drizzled in olive oil. Maybe it's better to eat them like that and enjoy them, rather than to agonize over whether I've shoved enough raw carrot sticks in my mouth for the day.

Fourth, I can still exercise. There's no ban on exercising just because you've decided to stop worrying about your weight. There's yoga. There's gentle resistance training with elastic bands. We're getting an elliptical soon. I like going for walks with my husband around the neighborhood. Really, I think I'd enjoy exercising more if I wasn't always concerned about whether it's narrowing my waistline. I mean, it's not like I'm consciously trying to get fat. I'm just going to stop trying to prevent it from happening. But exercise makes me feel good and have more energy, and it's fun, so why not?

So, really, what's the big deal about being overweight?

Diets and Discipline

I'm one of those people.

I decide to try to start losing weight. I eat right for a few days and lose a couple pounds. Then I think, "Gosh, that was easy! I don't have to try so hard! It's OK if I slack off just this one time for some cake, because it'll be so easy for me to lose the weight again!" So I have some cake. And then some ice cream. And then some ribs. And suddenly I've gained those couple pounds back, plus a few more.

I do the same thing in other aspects of my life. I'll clean one room of the house before getting distracted and meandering off to play on Facebook (after all, it's not that dirty!); I'll start too many projects at once while I'm at work and get distracted by the least important one; or I'll look at how little I have left to edit and think "gosh, it won't take me that long at all! I think I'll read some more articles about the origins of lint online..."

Really, isn't the Internet a beautiful horrible vast gaping hole of time-wasting crazy thing?

Well, fortunately I haven't quite slide into the depths of life-wasting apathy yet. I still want to weigh 135 pounds. I still want to be a writer when I (manage to not) grow up. I still want to live in a condo that doesn't resemble a crack den. So stuff gets done.

Today, for example. Today I hit "send" to a couple folks who were kind enough to offer a bit of editing input. This was a big step. Honestly, I was getting worried I wouldn't let anyone else read my book unless they either hacked it off of my computer or pried it out of my cold dead hands. Which would be weird, given I'm not famous or anything yet.

I still have a lot to do. I need a cover. I need to edit again. I need to decide how on earth I'm going to market this thing. I need to decide if it's really interesting enough to publish. Then I need to get over it and just go for broke. Also, I need to stop fantasizing about cake.

But now, I need to sleep. Good night friends.

My Characters Won't Diet

In case you needed further reinforcing that I have a love affair with food, I made a decision today: the characters in my novels will never be on a diet.

This decision is actually a tough one to make; while I favor the fantasy genre, I have written chick lit before, and plan to write it again someday. I found it a fun, relatable genre with a lot of potential for catharsis. However, one of the central points usually tends to be the never-ending quest to lose about 5 pounds. I think the only book in that genre that I read that didn't have some kind of prevailing weight-loss theme was the first book in the Shopaholic series (granted, I haven't read huge amounts of chick lit, but it wouldn't surprise me to find it's a common thread).

I'm currently trying to re-align myself with the basic tenets of Weight Watchers, because most of my clothes no longer fit. And, honestly, it hasn't been very fun. At the moment, I'm gnawing on a breakfast sandwich that tastes a little like bark (if I knew what bark actually tasted like). I'm willing to subject my characters to heartbreak; they can be hungry from questing, exhausted, exposed to the elements, wounded from facing mythical creatures, heck - I may even kill one or two off here and there. But I will not make them eat a low-fat multigrain bagel, with cheese that is slightly reminiscent of plastic and an unnatural circle of something that is rumored to be egg white.

Most of my fantasy characters will not really have to worry about this sort of thing, of course. Usually the only fat ones are the innkeepers, and they aren't too worried about maintaining a good physique. But the idea still holds - one of the things I've always loved when reading fantasy novels is the descriptions of the food. I want to explain that the vegetables and potatoes being set for the feast are slathered in butter or bacon fat. The meat shall be roasted with the skin still on, so that it crackles while the juices run down people's fingers as they eat. And the desserts? I'd feel like I let someone down if they weren't insanely elaborate and involved an actual river of chocolate (historical accuracy be damned).

One of the other things I cannot wait to do in my novel is something I've experienced over and over again, and I love it every time. A character goes on a quest. They start out with enough supplies, but it becomes clear at some point that there isn't enough. They have to scavenge. Their resources dwindle, and eventually they end up facing an enemy - perhaps they end up wounded, but somehow still squeak by and survive. Then, they finally make it to safety, and food, and water, and healing. The dynamic there is so incredibly simple, but whenever I find myself reading that kind of sequence, it's like I'm being built back up with the character while it happens. I love it when an author lists out exactly what the character is eating in order to reclaim his or her strength, because it's like I'm eating every word and I can feel them recovering. It happens over and over again in the Wheel of Time series and in Tolkien's novels as well. It's a strange kind of rejuvenation, to the point where, if I have to stop reading while the character is still exhausted and trying to get to safety, I just don't feel right until I get to read them the rest of the way there.

Anyways, to summarize: diets=bad. Food=good. Questing=better. Adventure=best.

Oh Frabjous Day!

Well, the past few days have been immensely better! I haven't felt like myself in a few weeks, but now I've made it to the gym a few times, done some running, and managed to knock out my freelancing projects. I'll probably take this week off from freelancing so I can focus on my novel a bit more. I am a bit behind where I'd like to be, but still plugging away at it bit by bit.

We're all chilling watching the Superbowl at the moment. I'll be honest: I had no idea it was really supposed to be on this weekend but for a conference call at work on Friday. Our rep in Indianapolis was talking about the crowds from everyone flying in for the game. Granted, we did order hoagies through our church youth group (they do it as a fundraiser every year, and btw, these are awesome hoagies). The hoagies and the commercials are about all I look forward to... OK, the half-time show is usually pretty good too. Oh, and pizza and wings. And adult beverages. Yup. OK. So the Superbowl isn't too bad, except for all of the football stuff in between.