Lard Lad

I'm notoriously heafty. All my life I've been a chubster and over the last few years I have really packed it on. Tired of being husky, I am eating healthy because that's less not fun than excercise. I really hate moving around. I see people jogging along the side of the road all of the time and wish I had the heart to do stuff like that... then I try getting on a treadmill and bottom out at a eighth of a mile. So I am making better choices when I eat. It's no fun either, but at least I know I won't kill myself like I would if I tried to burn calories doing chin-ups or some other such nonsense. Maybe one day I'll be fit enough to do crunches and lunges, but for for now I'm just chilling out sedentary-style.

But something has to be done. I'm a over-weight, thirty year old. I was even taking medicine for cholestrol control for a while. At least I'm not Hoveround large yet. No, I'm still a fattie-on-foot, but sometimes when I am dutifully following Claudine around in the grocery store, I catch myself getting jealous of the whales with wheels I see put-putting down the aisle with the Debbie Cake end-cap. From a far, it really looks like a great life to live, but then I see them breathing heavy from the exertion it takes to mash the little button that makes their cart go. Oh well. I'll just trudge along behind the cart for a while longer and make sure to only put the boring tasting stuff into the cart for now. Better that than a soapy rag on a stick.