We all have at least one pair of “fat pants”, right? The ones that are both comfortable and acceptable in society? That’s not just me? If so, you probably also know the horror of the thigh blow out, when the weeks, months, and years of your thighs rubbing together is finally too much and the fabric gives up. Your jeans are now aspiring to be jorts and there’s nothing you can do about it.
The last time I was at the dentist for a checkup, he said there were a couple of spots we were “watching”. They weren’t cavities in need of filling yet, but we’re keeping an eye on them.
That’s how it was with my jeans. I was watching a tiny little spot, where the fabric was wearing, and some daylight could be seen. It stayed that way for weeks, and I felt confident that I would have warning before the full-scale blow.
Oh, how wrong I was. On my second day of training at the new job, on a routine trip to the restroom, the truth was revealed to me. One pant leg had decided to separate. No reconciliation was possible. It was 1/4 of the way through the process and a quick mirror check assured me that it wasn’t visible, but just barely. Thank God I was also wearing a long sweater.
I thought to myself ‘Lola, this is your sign. The fat pants have given up. You can either grab a pair of scissors and pretend you’ve been wearing jorts all day, or you can get serious and work on fitting into the three pairs of brand new jeans waiting in the closet at home.’
I choose jorts.
Just kidding. I’m ready to make some progress again. I’m ready to work through my feelings instead of eating them. I’m ready to have hard conversations instead of holding it all in. I’m ready to use exercise as an outlet for stress and anxiety. I’m ready to feel good again. I’m on day three of “doing better” and I already feel better. This is my sign to keep going.
Plus, I hate these jeans.
❤ Lola
lolaandmela 