Time to drag out the fat clothes

Yes, it's November. "The holidays" are right on top of us, and they bring with them all the fat, sugar and thousands of extra calories that most of us see every year right about this time. Oh I know that there are those people who exercise restraint and discipline throughout the months of November and December but alas, I am not one of them. I always think I do pretty well, but then I weigh myself come January 1^st, and I'm slapped in the face yet again with the consequences of my indulgences. Ugh, and thus I'll usher in another year kicking myself and upping my efforts at the gym.

Most every woman I know has sets and subsets of clothes. Unless you live in California or Iceland, you probably have seasonal clothes. Under each set of seasonal clothes, you then have the "fat" subset and the "skinny" subset of apparel. Yes ladies, you can have fat leggings and skinny leggings, fat gloves and skinny gloves. Trust me.

I lost a considerable amount of weight 5 or 6 years ago. I have managed to keep most of it off, but I still have weeks in which I'm sure I'm heavier than others. It's a curse. No, I'm not one of those women who swears that I never eat (and when I do, it's an intravenous protein shake, I SWEAR), but I do believe that some of us are prone to more easily gain weight. How do I know this? Family portraits, hon. They never lie. All the women on my mother's side of the family are, um, German women of stature. They also have big boobs, but apparently that gene can skip a generation. Just another of life's cruel genetic practical jokes.

Anyway, I was squeezing into my newest pair of "jeggings" the other day. These things are the best invention since Botox. They look like jeans – from a distance anyway – but they're actually, I don't know, that stretchy athletic tape dyed blue and magically stitched together. They're amazing. My legs look awesome in them. Of course, the fat that isn't actually stuffed into the jeggings has to go somewhere, so I cleverly wear a loose top over them, but that's OK. Even these clever little inventions can't forgive all the holiday indulgences, though, so I must be careful. If I outgrow my jeggings, I may have to be put on suicide watch.

I was leaving the gym after finishing my workout yesterday, and I noticed a sign on the door outlining the hours of operation on Thanksgiving. The sign admonished all of us health-conscious individuals to come in and work out either before or after feasting on Thursday. Now I don't know how Thanksgiving works at your house, but I am the chief cook at mine. I started cooking yesterday and will finish minutes before the meal hits the table tomorrow. I will not be working out before dinner. I simply can't imagine a post-feast workout, either. No matter how hard I try, I can't get the image of me in spinning class and, well….never mind. It's not pretty.

Here's to a beautiful Thanksgiving, folks, filled with family (that we like), great food and plenty of wine. I may take the guy who works the front desk at my gym a plate of food tomorrow, just to say I went.