In a lot of ways, life was simpler when I was a chunky girl. My primary concern was finding clothes that fit me that did not make me look like a sausage and making sure I had the peripherals like hair, skin and nails on point at all times. I didn't work out, plan to start to work out, or berate myself for not working out. I kept my coffers filled with the holy trinity of cookies, brownies, and flakies and kept it moving.
This might be further evidence of my madness, but there was a blissful simplicity to being a big(ger) girl that I kind of miss sometimes. I was used to not really liking the way I looked and so not being happy with what I looked like was nothing special. I kept mirror time to a bare minimum. And I never ever let myself compare my body to other women’s lest I launch myself into a pit of misery that no amount of high fructose corn syrup could pull me out of.
Those were the good old days.
Now that I’ve become all (well, moderately) fit and shit in my old days, my little insular bubble has burst. Remember how I told you I was never satisfied? Well that shit applies here. When I first started working out I was a skinny fat who couldn’t find muscle tone if I looked it up in the dictionary. These days, while I might not be ripped, you can definitely tell by looking at me that I know my way around a set of dumbbells.
Now if I were a normal person, I’d be content with the progress I made. Perhaps I’d strengthen my resolve to continue to push myself to do better. Maybe I’d even be gratified with the fact that I have a better body than most people I know. But because I am a lunatic, that is not the case.
Under normal circumstances, I’m a watch no face kinda girl. I’m not one to covet what anyone else has because I have no idea what they did to get it. But ever since I got my little workout groove on I’ve had a serious case of body envy. Despite the fact that it’s utterly ridiculous for a normal person (well, kinda normal) to try to achieve the fitness results of celebrities who have all the time and resources in the world at their disposal, there are just some
bitches women whose bodies I would like to snatch and invade.
Let’s take a look, shall we?
This is the
bitch photo that started the trouble. I ripped this out of a magazine many years ago and had it within arm’s reach for years. I don’t think there’s anything really earth-shattering about Kate’s body, but for some reason it gets my motor running. And when I get that urge to just fling myself on the floor mid-workout because I’m completely exhausted, this is the image I see in my head that makes me drag my heaving self to the end.
I’m still mostly unclear on who or what a Tika Sumpter is, but this chick’s body kills me dead. Her abs are what mine look like first thing in the morning before breakfast. If I didn’t eat for several hours before I went to bed. But I’m sure this little hooker probably stuffed her face with pasta right before this photo shoot. Oh and see that line at the side of her thigh? I.want.that. Except to get it I have to do unspeakable things like lunges and squats and I still fucking hate those.
Again only the vaguest, most tenuous idea who this chick is. But I know this: I like her body.
It pains me to even mention this girl on my blog, she frets me so. But one thing I will say is she has a cute little ass. This is what I picture when I’m
painting my nails thigh dancing and cursing the ladies of Physique 57 (best workout ever by the way) and my ass is on fire. I’ll get there one day.
So that’s my list of women who inspire me to get up off my ass this morning while also filling me with the hot fire of body envy. What say you guys? Whose bodies are inspiring envy in you? Weigh in (hahaha) in the comments.