Diary of a chubby momma
The last time I was at my “ideal” weight was in 2000. I had been introduced to Bangkok pills and, because I completely misunderstood the instructions, I lost around 30 pounds in just two months. Too fast, too drastic, and definitely too unhealthy.
It was also the time when I had the energy to work out, so the palpitations caused by the pills were conveniently masked by my time on the treadmill. But when news eventually broke about what those pills actually contained, I stopped immediately. Naturally, the pounds slowly found their way back. They always do.
The need to exercise
Truth be told, I was never really thin to begin with. Not even before pregnancy. And of course, having babies added a generous number of curves, unsolicited, I might add. Having a D cup did not exactly help the situation either.
I do believe in the power of exercise, not just for weight loss, but for muscle building, strength, and overall well-being. The problem is, I do not like it at all.
I have tried almost everything. I got bored with the gym. The repetitive reps, the machines, and the thought of someone else’s sweat lingering on the equipment turned me into what looked more like a gym attendant than a member. I spent more time wiping handles than actually using them.
I played badminton religiously for a time, until my knees began to protest. Running, even brisk walking on a treadmill, hurts my back because of the weight I carry up top. Sports bras are supposed to help, but putting one on feels like a full workout in itself.
I was once a member of the gym at The Peninsula Manila, where I discovered that swimming was kind to the body but not to the hair and skin. The chlorine clung to my hair for days, leaving it brittle and dry. And hiking, please. Inclines, unless they come with an escalator, are my natural enemies.
Now that I am 53, the need to exercise feels more urgent than ever. I have even taken up pickleball, the hottest sport these days. I genuinely enjoy it, but my body does not seem to agree. In my last two games, I managed to fall flat on my backside, an experience that came with a complimentary package of physical therapy.
Then there is yoga. Slow, controlled, core strengthening. Probably the best thing for me. I have tried it many times. I understand its benefits. I just do not love it. But as they say, no pain, no gain.
A new twist
As if things were not complicated enough, menopause has introduced a new twist. I seem to be allergic to my own sweat. The moment it trickles down my neck, I start itching. Hot flashes do not help, and any activity that causes sweating results in rashes, tiny bumps, and welts.
According to the internet, which, depending on the day, is either my best friend or worst enemy, I may be dealing with cholinergic urticaria, a condition where your body’s natural cooling mechanism becomes the trigger for an allergic reaction. When that happens, cooling powder becomes less of a luxury and more of a necessity.
At this point, you are probably thinking I am just full of excuses. Maybe. But not wanting to exercise does not automatically make me lazy. I do not sleep well, and on days when I get home early, my bed calls out to me in a voice I simply cannot ignore.
And honestly, answering that call sometimes feels like the most productive thing I can do.
Prevention is cheaper than cure
But speaking of things I can no longer ignore, there is my executive check-up.
There really is no excuse for putting it off. At this age, it is no longer about vanity or fitting into a smaller dress size. It is about knowing what is happening inside your body before it is too late. Prevention is always cheaper, easier, and far less painful than a cure. And yet, despite knowing all of this, I still delay it.
If I am being completely honest, one of the reasons I avoid it is the system. The thought of going to a hospital and waiting for hours just to get a simple procedure done is enough to make me postpone it again and again. The inefficiency, the long lines, the endless waiting, it drains you even before you begin.
Which is why I cannot help but compare it to the best medical check-up I have ever had, in Singapore. They were strict with appointment times. No delays, no overcrowding, no unnecessary waiting. Everything flowed seamlessly. I was seen on time, tests were done efficiently, and results were released on the same day. Even the price felt reasonable for the level of service and peace of mind it provided.
It made me realize that taking care of your health does not have to feel like a burden. It can be smooth, organized, and even reassuring.
No one is responsible for my health but me
So perhaps it is time I stop hiding behind excuses, whether it is my dislike for exercise or my frustration with the system. Because at the end of the day, no one else is responsible for my health but me. And if I can survive Bangkok pills, menopause, and pickleball injuries, I should be able to survive a few hours in a hospital.
Or better yet, I will just book a flight to Singapore.
But for now, I think I will grab a bowl of popcorn, sit comfortably, and watch “Physical: 100.” That should count as exercise, at least for my eyes.
