Early 30’s Skinny Bitch Syndrom

A thought that happens quite frequent lately.

Why is it that everything I eat my belly makes it a point to show it to the world. How much longer are we going to have this battle?

Go down!

No!

Please?!

Maybe! But no, I am not ready, feed me more carbs.

WTF

I am going to sit down and cry!

Now, I’ve heard on several occasions things like “oh wait till you hit 30, things will change, your body will change.”

“when you turn 30, your body is not going to burn fat as fast.”

Or plain and simple,
“when 30, you are going to get fat”

Me?! Impossible. Never. Pretty much that was my attitude in the twenties.

On February 1st, two weeks short from a year as I am traveling, and when I last got on a scale. I took a stand at an old school scale to weight myself in our hotel.

“This can’t be right? Iza does it really read what I see?” Holy shit! I fucking gained 6.8 kilos (15lb). No freaking way!?!”

Iza smiles as her weight went down, and she is officially back to her normal self.

I returned to my room, in disbelief. It must be my leg muscles. Shit! This is impossible. When did it happen?!?

So I go through all the possibilities and the cause of my extreme weight gain. My portions are twice as big, I think of lunch while I am eating breakfast, and I snack all the time. The other day I ate an entire bag of peanuts, peanuts are calorie fuckers. Basically I am obsessed with food, I am always hungry, and I justify everything that I eat as good.

Avocados are good for sex, potatoes contain vitamin B, burgers are protein packers and chocolate is a good iron source.

But I think the real reason why I gained weight, is because I always ask Iza to run the errand. Iza can you pass me my wallet, Iza can you go downstairs and get.. Iza can you?? And that my friends is how I probably gained 3kilos out of 6.8. The rest? I will blame it on the best Argentinian bakeries, where I spent most of my time, the New Zealand lamb and lack of sex.

Gaining weight was easy, now I have to deal with the depression, my love handles, and dancing twice as long to get into my jeans. My favorite Armany Exchange size 2 jeans are no longer size 2, as my fat ass barely squeezed in and stretched them!

I no longer have clothes that show off my belly, and I bought my bathing suit in a Wearhouse, equivalent to K-mart.

I stare at myself in the mirror, and I talk to my body, with cries and promises that tomorrow will be a better day and I won’t overeat.

But I fail, I once again uncontrollably stuff my face with chocolate. Then I am pissed when I catch a glance of my belly in the store reflection.

I have not gone crazy yet, I know that I am not extremely fat, and my current weight is probably an average but that’s not my point. All my life I’ve been a skinny bitch, even sometimes too skinny. A perfect body in my mirror, but I no longer have my mirror and my body has changed. Freaking 30’s.

I am on the other side of the wold far fat away from home almost impossible to fall into any diet routine.

Traveling, so much food to try, so much alcohol to drink, but it’s time to loose the jello.

Skinny bitches, wait for me, I am coming back