I would be lying if I said that Robert and I have never eaten Big Macs together in a jacuzzi.
Back in college, McDonalds was the only thing between our favorite watering hole and his apartment. We would swing by for a late night snack and stuff our faces, buzzed off cheap drink specials, saturated fat and young love.
But now our fast food hangovers are almost as bad as our real ones, and we have to make a conscious effort not to jiggle.
Mutually Assured Destruction
Everyone makes jokes about couples “letting themselves go” together, and sometimes, that stereotype comes true. Knowing someone loves you for who you are, makes us less determined to keep our backsides firm, and our abs flat.
If only half of your dynamic duo is committed to being healthy, it can be especially difficult for the other to stay on track.
The only way to ensure you both retain your girlish figures, and keep your arteries clear, is to work together to stay healthy.
Would You Like Boogers With That
My mother’s rule of thumb when it comes to fast food is, “Don’t eat anything made by a zitty teenager, who probably picks their nose.”
While the skin condition and nasal excavation are both pure conjecture, they may not be far from the truth.
It can be tempting to get takeout or hit the drive-thru after a long day at the office, but not only is it usually prepared by high school students, it is also loaded with sodium, sugar and fat. Even a simple salad from a fast food joint can have as much fat as a cheeseburger.
Cooking at home cuts down on those crouching tiger, hidden calories.
Being the domestic goddess that I am, I cook dinner for Robert and myself, plus extra to take for lunch the next day.
I plan our healthy meals and grocery shopping on an excel spreadsheet, because I’m a nerd, and because it cuts down on the chances of me impulsively buying a family-sized bag of powdered donuts for dinner.
The Great Christmas Cookie Fiasco of 2012
I have always had the alarming ability to out-eat almost anyone at the table. This skill back-fired one Christmas, when I spent most of my vacation eating my weight in cookies.
I managed to gain 15 pounds in a mere two weeks, a feat which Robert still refers to this as, “The Great Christmas Cookie Fiasco of 2012.”
I realized one of my biggest weaknesses is portion control. One Christmas cookie probably won’t hurt, but when you eat a chocolate chip cherub, a snickerdoodle snowflake, a sprinkle-laden Santa and all his reindeer in one sitting, your tummy will be jiggling like a bowl full of jelly.
If you don’t want to fall under the category of “jolly,” you must watch how much you eat, not just what you eat.
The best way to whip that hiney in to shape is to get it moving. Our postgrad schedules don’t allow much time for leisure, so devoting an hour a day to repeatedly picking up heavy things and putting them back down can be less than appealing.
Finding an exercise routine you enjoy will improve your chances of actually doing it.
Robert has discovered CrossFit, and enjoys channeling his competitive spirit into clean and jerks. While “clean and jerks” sound like some sort of rude maid service to me, I know it makes him happy.
I, myself, joined a small gym with a friendly staff and a diverse clientele. From trophy wives in Lulu Lemon, to middle aged men in cargo pants, the intimidation factor is minimal.
We enjoy our “me time,” and admire the effects it has on one another’s bodacious bods.
But don’t get crazy. (See Christmas Cookie Fiasco of 2012.)