Fat Cow

One of my buddies, Cool Dude, likes to tell jokes. Here is one of his recent ones:

CD: Knock knock
Me: Whose there?
CD: Fat cow
Me: Fat cow, who?
CD: You're a fat cow!

Ouch. Oh, I should probably mention that Cool Dude is 14...and has Down syndrome. His "jokes" usually involve me answering the metaphysical door and being hit over the head or some other humorous injury. So, while I usually do not take offense when he says things like, "Why couldn't you cross the road? Because you got hit by a hippo!" the fat cow "joke" really felt like a low blow. Perhaps it struck a cord with me because, well, I am a fat cow.

Recent years have not done my body well.  There really is no excuse. I eat crap and I don't exercise. I mean, no real good can come out of that.

I've never been skinny. My dad told me once that they were worried for me when I was a kid because I was too fat.  Fortunately, I feel in love with soccer and my middle and high school years were redeemed from the obesity of my childhood due to the fact I was running around every day of the week. While I never achieved a "skinny" body, I was not fat either. However looking back I thought I was a fat cow in high school.  Maybe because my mom followed me around saying, "A minute on the lip, is a lifetime on the hip!" anytime I tried to eat something. And my dad used to tell me that since I had big feet I was destined to be 300 pounds.  Mind you, neither one of my parents are pixies.

Enter the college years. My mom warned me of the freshman 15. My dad liked to poke my stomach every time I came home to visit and say things like, "oh a little pudgy, eh?" I did pretty well my freshman year...well the first half anyway. The second half I learned to like, no love, beer. It all went downhill from there. I played rugby in college so, I rationalized my eating with the fact that I was exercising everyday. Oh how the wonders of the human body's aging process eluded me. Gone was the body I once had that allowed me to eat anything without (too many) implications. I would tell myself, "Oh I'll never reach that weight!" Then when I would reach that weight I would convince myself I would never reach the next weight. And the next one. And the next one. Until finally, one day, I reached the weight that I said I would never ever never ever get to. And then Cool Dude told his fat cow "joke".

So, I'm finally doing something about it. I'm 24, poor, and single...I don't need obese thrown into the mix. I joined Weight Watchers. I mean if Jennifer Hudson can do it, so can I. Right? I went to my first meeting last week. It was me and about 20 grandmothers, oh and once creepy guy. Awesome. But I'm trying to be optimistic. I really think it can work. I just have to stay committed. Fingers crossed.

And so begins the journey away from being a fat cow. You can be sure there will be updates to follow...only if I succeed. If I don't, expect some more pitiful blogs.

 I'll close with one of Cool Dude's favorite jokes.

CD: Knock knock
Me: Whose there?
CD: Olive
Me: Olive who?
CD: Olive you too!

Okay, I guess I can forgive him :)