flubble

Yes, it’s a made-up word.  However, it’s a sound I hear every time I walk, when a) my thighs rub against each other, and b) my upper arms move.  It’s the sinister sound of fat in motion.

I’m not hideously fat.  I’m nearly 5′9″, and I’m 82.5 kgs.  However, this does make me overweight.  For the first time, I’m actually a size 16 Australian.  People are starting to refer to me as ‘big boned’.  At least, to my face.  Speaking of which, the proportions of my face, which previously were attractive, have been swamped by extraneous fat that couldn’t find a spot on my backside, thighs, stomach, or breasts.  (My breasts are always happy for more company, but alas, they are the last to benefit from my weight gain.)  As a result, my formerly attractive face is now a permanently bloated caricature of its former self.

As a result of this, and feeling pretty good on my current level of Lexapro, I’ve decided to get back into my favourite little exercise routine – the mini-tramp (also known as a rebounder).  I did 24 minutes yesterday, and 25 minutes today.  I’m hoping it’ll not only help me drop the weight, but also clear up my (adolescently spotty) skin, help me sleep better, and make me feel better generally. 

The current plan is to get on for a minimum of 20+ minutes every day apart from Tuesdays, which is when I have choir rehearsal, or on days when we’re performing.  I hope it’s something that I’ll stick to, and that will work for me.  I can’t imagine being a size 16 before I have kids.  Afterwards, hey, it’s acceptable – you’ve created life!  You gave birth!!  But before, it’s just demoralising (at least, for me).