I have about 90 pounds left to lose before I hit my arbitrarily determined goal weight. When I was washing all my flabby bits last night in the shower (you didn’t know this blog featured nudity, did you?), I started to wonder exactly how that excess weight is distributed. It’s kind of fun, like trying to guess the number of jelly beans in a jar.
My belly alone must be at least 30 pounds. I’d guess at least another 30 pounds in my ass. Let’s say my arms have 5 pounds each, which leaves me with 20 pounds in my legs? That can’t be right.
Maybe my ass isn’t as big as I think. I’m not Linda Blair in the Exorcist, so I can’t swivel my head around to get that great of a look. Until the devil possesses me and makes me vomit pea soup, we’ll just have to go with what I can see in the mirror. Does devil induced vomiting count as bulimia? I don’t want an eating disorder, paranormal or not.
Maybe I’m overestimating my arm weight. The upper arms look like chicken wings, but how much do they really weigh? I’m hesitant to underestimate them. I’ve gone down three notches on my wristwatch in the past year and I would never have guessed I had that much fat in my wrist. My wrist! I thought my wrist was just bone and veins, but fat seems to lurk everywhere.
My mother insists that my shoe width has probably gotten smaller, but I think she’s loopy. How much fat can I have in my feet? I have heard a snide comment or two about the size of my ass, but no one has ever accused me of having chunky toes. It’s not as if there is a fat-person shoe store, is there? I’ve always assumed I had to wear wide width shoes because of my bone structure, but maybe she’s not crazy and I can start wearing normal width shoes in the future. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.