|Apparently, I have sweaty knees.|
I have made the bold decision to start wearing all black to the gym. After major anxiety over my sweating, I realized that black is the only color I can wear that is less obvious about the amount of sweat pouring out of my body. Seriously, I’m thinking about consulting a doctor. It’s actually ridiculous. I left the gym the past two mornings and my shirt was soaked down to my belly button. Don’t even get me started on the grey legging capris I decided to wear on Monday that were embarrassingly marked when I exited the gym. I can no longer wear grey. Ever. Today, I opted for a neon-ish orange and that didn’t work either. Sweat is your body’s response to regulating your temperature. My hard workout coupled with the fact that I am still overweight equals one sweaty Sarah. It’s quite embarrassing but, obviously, something I cannot control so I will continue to work up a sweat. If you see me in the gym, with my handy dandy towel in tow, just think how hard my bod is working to regulate all of what I’ve got going on.
I’m actually okay with the all black because it works into my theme. That’s right, dear friends, we are gathered here today to mourn a loss. Every gym session, I will dress in all black to attend the funeral of my fat. With every rep I take, every mile I make, every limit I break, every step I take, I’ll be losing weight (please re-read this sentence and sing to the tune of Every Breath You Take by Sting). Feel free to say a prayer or a Hail Mary as I pass by you on my way to a bench out of respect for my loss. No need to send flowers or donations as this is not a sad goodbye. Please do not shed a tear or two over my fat loss but instead celebrate its passing as it lived a long life. A little too long. For 27 years my weight fought a good fight. It was always bouncing back after taking a hit and usually coming back even stronger. In the end, though, it finally had to succumb to pressure from its killer as she was more determined this time around. Little by little, week by week, I will continue to lose until one day we will say our final goodbyes. This time, fat will not recover. It will not be awarded the miracle of a second life. It will go to that big pie in the sky and look fondly down on me as it knows I’m in a better place. Please bow your head for a moment of silence as I lost another pound this past week. It was time for it to join the other 72 lbs. gone home. Go toward the light, little buddy. Amen.
It’s hump day and that means it’s time for my Supa Proud award. This week, I’m awarding my amazing friend Tracey as who I am supa proud of this week (and at all times, honestly). Tracey has had a grueling few months professionally and has persevered quite gracefully. Tracey not only puts up with my endless shenanigans but she loves me regardless. I cannot pay her for the million therapy hours she has unconsciously treated me and the only thing I can offer is my public decree of thank you! With everything going on in life, Tracey has accomplished so much and I’m so proud of her! Keep strong and keep going, my friend! I love you more than curly fries.