Being anorexicaly thin all through my growing years, I had never given a though to exercise or to what I ate. My motto was rather simple. Eat till you became full. And I ate only what I liked. I was a vegetarian for some 8 years. Even now, my stomach turns at the sight of a leg of some hapless animal, slathered in masala, like some sad funeral shroud. But, (and I'm ashamed to confess) I eat with relish, unidentifiable forms of meat. A round burger, an oblong kebab, a cylindrical spring roll. Bring em on.
Before I venture any further, let me explain why I’m writing this in the first place. Ladies and gentlemen, people of my lands, “my Hipbones have vanished!”
The signs were there early on. How could I have missed them? 2 years ago, I suddenly saw myself not breathing while stuffing myself into my jeans. Ah those fabled
I went out an got myself a new pair of jeans. With a dash of Lycra, to be sure! Needless to say, my conservative mother frowned at the second skin.
It has been 3 months now. I am loosing shape, but not gaining weight. I have 3 spare tyres. I fold when I sit. Oh, and even Lycra has a limit, I can’t get into those too! Ladies and gentlemen. I present myself, 5ft
1 comment:
Would u agree with what J.K.Rowling said? tht nice healthy bodies r far btr for women than painfully anorexic ones? u never explicitly mention in ur musing on wht u prefer.
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