Weightless for the Holidays

I once conjured up this brilliant plan to exercise and eat healthfully long enough to get me underweight so I could (don’t worry I’m not anorexic) eat myself out of house and home for the holidays. Gain 10 lbs. in December? No big deal. I needed it anyhow.

Photo courtesy of gettyimages.com

I still hold firmly to the fact that I find this to be a nearly flawless plan. It would make for a pretty lousy summer and fall (what with all the exercising — I hate exercising — and eating healthfully — I hate eating healthfully), but then I could traipse around, eating an entire turkey and several helpings of buttered mashed potatoes all day long. I could single-handedly eat a cherry pie with little to no ramification.

If there’s one thing I could grow to love in life, it would certainly be eating an entire pie without consequence.

Photo courtesy of gettyimages.com

Unfortunately (isn’t there always an unfortunately), I have never actually succeeded in this plan. I’ve learned the discomforting lesson that, after turning about 23, one’s metabolism rate plummets down into the core of the Earth, disallowing that person to, you know, eat an entire bag of Doritos at 10:00 pm and then only workout once a week, for a few minutes to maintain a healthy weight.

That’s total crap, if you ask me. That metabolism rate should last till a person’s ability to use the restroom alone gives up.

So, alas and alack, my disdain for exercise and superfoods means I enter this year’s holiday season with a few more pounds than last year’s, and I am fairly certain (unless I were to happen upon an international parasite) I won’t manage to get underweight between now and Thursday.

Doesn’t mean I won’t try.


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