TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | MAY 2018 37
By Hollie Sessoms
Not Yet Ready for Primetime Beach Body
OR
Antarctica or Bust
On January 1st, I did the thing that’s done. The thing that many of you
dear readers probably did as well. I vowed to lose 15 pounds by summer.
For reals. It was on like Donkey Kong back in the glorious few weeks of
New-Year-New-You. Well, it’s May, summer is nigh here, and I’ve been
working hard. Only 25 more pounds to go…
But this past month I’ve been serious about it. Like seriously serious.
I mean, a couple of donuts followed by a couple bottles of IPA in
January was no big deal. I could merrily stuff myself into elastic-banded
sweatpants, merrily pull on Husband’s hoodie and kid myself that I still
looked great. Spring clothing, alas, is not as forgiving and I’ve seen
the error of my winter-time-diet ways. So, I have two choices: move to
Antarctica or get into shape.
Moving to Antarctica, it turns out, is a lot of work. First I would have
to become some sort of scientist, then I would have to have some kind
of thing to study that required I go to Antarctica, then I would have to
compete with other scientists (apparently, there are a lot of people who
don’t want to wear spring clothing) to even be allowed to go and let’s face
it, science was never my thing, or competition, or any kind of weather
below 70 degrees.
So, diet and exercise it is…
First up: Whole 30. That’s right. Whole freaking 30 baby. I’m talking
30 days (30 days!) no processed food, no dairy, no beans, no wheat, no
sugar, no alcohol (!), no grains. I did okay on this. Really, I did. I lasted way
longer than I thought I would. Almost an entire day. Eventually, though, as
happens in my life, I tripped and fell into a few beers. When this happens
on Whole 30, you’re supposed to start over again, but 30 days! It was too
daunting. Just, no.
Next up: Smoothie cleanse. Yes! Exactly what I needed. A cleanse. It
sounded so…well…cleansing. I actually totally enjoyed this. Seven days
of smoothies and really delicious soups. It was pretty fantastic, I was
barely hungry, and I did the whole seven days and then…promptly filled
my house with oreos, chips, ice cream, and fried chicken. I had no choice
in this. The devil on my shoulder made me do it…
Okay then, exercise. Clearly, I had no control over what went in my
body, but I could 100 percent control how I moved my body, right? So,
fueled by IPA and ice cream, I went on a run. I used to run regularly and
even, once, years ago, completed a half-marathon. So, I decided on an
easy three-mile jog. OMG! Do you know how long three miles is?! It’s
practically the distance to the moon! My body totally freaked out. It was
all like: We had a deal here, Hollie! You were going to sit on the couch
and eat cheesy puffs and in return I was going to turn all of your food
into fat cells.
So, what’s a girl to do? Starve herself? Work herself do death? Maybe,
make peace with her body? Getting to Antarctica has to be easier than
any of that.