We’ve all heard about the “Freshman fifteen,” a surprise and sudden expansion of one’s gut when they leave the nest and attempt to make it on their own – typically occurring during the first year of post secondary school.
It’s a fairly common experience brought on upon an influx of sugary coffees, mountain of fast food, and perhaps a few beers.
Now, I’m fairly certain we’ll have to add another weight-gain distinction into the lexicon – the “COVID fifteen.”
Come on, I can’t be the only one, right? RIGHT?
Okay, maybe it hasn’t quite been fifteen pounds, but here we are at the end of summer, and with absolutely no beach-time whatsoever this year, my physique and I became estranged.
With rainier days and chillier nights, I figured it was time to start ironing out my warmer clothing.
When I went to slip on a pair of jeans that haven’t seen the light of day since COVID was just starting to be a brief mention on the nightly newscast, I immediately discovered that they had gotten kind of snug.
Outraged, my first thought was to curse the dryer for shrinking by beloved Levi’s.
Perhaps I was finally hitting that upwards growth spurt I was promised ten ago?
I had walked daily and worked out three times a week at home! What I feared just couldn’t be true.
Then I thought back to the past six months recalled working from home, eating nothing but fresh baked bread, and bolting straight for every restaurant in Langley (and beyond) when they finally reopened.
It made sense.
Some gyms are open… mine is still closed. My excuse for not going back, beyond telling myself that I’m a loyal member, is that running outside verses running on a treadmill, is… well… okay, I don’t have an excuse.
The deadline for this column came up before I could think of one. I’ll be sure to update you if I think of anything good.
Of course I experienced a little weight gain this year – life got extremely sedentary there for a few months.
The only outing for April and May was going to the grocery store. Movements, as little as they may have been to go to and from work and running errands that kept us minimally active were taken for granted.
My holiday was two weeks spent sitting in a car.
I’m sure a very large portion of us have tried on that pair of pants in the past weeks and then had a good panic.
Don’t. We’re all in this together.
It’s a difficult time full of uncertainty, stress eating, and re-shaping our lives.
Who cares if our shape got a little rounder?
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again – cut yourself some slack!
I say this all as a warning to you because I vowed to eat better and walk further and work harder after the button on my fly put up a valiant fight to stay undone.
I felt proud and knew I would see results if I stuck to strict plans.
But then September hit and the first advertisement came for pumpkin spiced lattes.
My girlfriend came home, wowing me with the fact pumpkin spice blizzards exist in this world.
The uncontrollable urge to bake pumpkin scones took over me like a demonic possession.
If you are thinking of attempting to eat healthier, know that the first signs of have fall arrived.
I politely folded up my jeans, put them away, and have now postponed the “COVID fifteen” weight loss plan until Christmas.
Is there more to this story?