Something terrible happened yesterday.
While “watching” the girls play in the pool (thank God for mirrored sunglasses and Next Issue on the iPad) I made a huge error.
Did I go inside without making them get out? Did I forget the ice for my sangria? Did I think it was okay to wear a bikini? Nope. I made the mistake of reading a women’s fitness magazine. Not only did I learn that I was obese (rats!), I learned that there is a new scourge on our society. A new beauty concern so great it was bolded, capitalized AND fitted with multiple exclamation marks.
I learned that all the shaving, clipping, toning, plucking and scrubbing is simply not enough. The pool exercises, the yoga, the “running”… also not cutting it.
You know why? Because it’s no match for armpit fat.
That’s right ladies, ARMPIT FAT.
I’m sorry you had to see that.
Just when you thought maybe you had this fitness thing under control, here’s another reason to put down the peanut butter cup and race to the gym.
Now let me be clear. I am used to magazines telling me I’m fat, and pretty soon my reading list is going to be reduced to Cat Fancy and Bass Fishing Quarterly. And I know healthy living is a pretty universal topic right now, kind of like shoulder pads and cocaine in the 80s. And I’m not dissing fitness or healthy living. I work at these things every day. But armpit fat? Really?
Arm fat I am well acquainted with. We’ve been hanging together (literally) since the 90s. Rumour has it that some push ups, upper body weight training and maybe the occasional lifting of something heavy can fight this but I can’t confirm. But the pits too? Don’t they have enough to deal with? I sure hope by the time my girls reach the age of body image concerns (what is that now, 8?) someone will have figured out a way to deal with these “unsightly bulges that can make you feel uncomfortable as well as self-conscious.”
In fairness, armpit fat is probably a legitimate concern if you’re wearing a lot of sleeveless tops and/or throwing your arms over your head in ecstasy in a well lit room (and if you are, don’t forget to gather your hair and pile it on top of your head with just a few strands hanging down. And look natural). But I’ve decided to focus my self loathing on the areas of my body that 1. people can see and 2. don’t have the word “pit” in them.
Call me crazy.