Today was that day.
All I've been able to talk about lately are "my Zumba pants". I love Zumba pants. I think they're awesome. I love the fit and the colors and the fact that you can attach tassels to them. When I got the word that the pants had been delivered, I got in the car and rushed over to my friends house somewhere near 9pm. I grabbed the box of clothes, threw it in the car and made the 3 block trip home in about eleven seconds. I ran up the stairs, busted the box open like a kid on Christmas morning, took the pants out of the protective packaging and looked at them.
"Hmm". *insert quizzical head tilt* They look a little small. I had ordered the biggest size they make. XXL. Surely they have sent me the wrong pants. I check the tag. Nope. They are "correct". So I decide my eyes must be in crooked and I begin to step into them.
I think I figured out something was wrong when they stopped ascending my body somewhere around mid thigh. Holy shit. Can this be? These pants not only don't fit, but they don't fit by a long shot. How can this be possible? My beloved Zumba...has betrayed me?
I've noticed something online with the Zumba pants. They are constantly out of the bigger sizes. Whenever you find the really cool looking pants, you will always come to find that anything other than XS, S and M are all sold out. You know why? Because people that skinny don't work out. They don't need to. WHY on earth would they not make more of these bigger pants? And why wouldn't they be made to fit the girls such as myself who are in desperate need of some serious cardio exercise, and who don't want to show up looking like we're dressed to work out in a prison yard? I instantly wanted to write Zumba Corp a letter quoting Day-Day from Next Friday when he says "Fat b*tches need love too, Craig!"
Now here's the up side: I have decided to keep the pants. Both pairs. They are MONTHS (at best) away from fitting. But God as my witness, these *F-Bomb*ing pants will fit me. And I will rock them. No one will have ever looked cuter in them. I will wear the pants, they will not wear me.
Being the person that I am, I took pictures. My mom and daughter were in the room when the trying on happened, so as I walked out of the changing area with devastation on my face I solemnly grabbed my camera and asked my mother to take some pictures. At first I did not intend to show the pictures to anyone. They were for me to keep and to look back on when one day these pants were far too big on me. But, I remembered that some girls out there may not have the "hope is like herpes" (see earlier blog) thing going on and may need some real motivation and hand holding. So, Big Girls out there: You are not alone. But I will tell you this, you will soon have one less sister amongst you, because I am out of here. Big Girls, I will always have love for ya, but I can't be one of you anymore. And I'd rather you bask in the glow of healthy positive changes along side me, than have you eat my dust. I have made the first step of getting off the couch. I walked out the door and into a Zumba class and it is motivating me every day. *prepare yourself for a Jerry Maguire moment* So all I wanna know is, who's coming with me?
|I couldn't even get these all the way up my legs.|