Once upon a time, there was a skinny girl who doesn’t like to eat but loves cats very much. Her mother would cajole her into eating by prepping foods she likes, giving vitamins, even traditional remedies to get her appetite up but no avail. Until one day, her mother decided that it was time for her to learn how to swim. Coincidentally, it was also at the same time the girl decided to take up ballet, her head filled with pretty ballerinas twirling in glittery tutus, and dreamed that she too would wear such glittery, billowy tutu with a handsome prince at her side. Such was the dream.

So she became quite busy what with ballet, swimming, basketball and other extracurricular activities that came her way that she began to build an appetite. She began to eat. Then, as life would have it, hormones that was dormant decided to wake up and she became ravenous. The human garbage she became, eating seconds and thirds of whatever she fancied. As she was somewhat active she didn’t actually become overly huge. Depending on which country she happened to be in, she could be average size veering on the small or she could be big. Then she hits her twenties and that’s when things start to go sideways.

She is not athletically inclined, so freed from mandatory PE classes she just do away with sports altogether and though she likes dancing, it just somehow slipped out of her mind. She could take dance classes but just didn’t. As she doesn’t do pub crawl, at weekends when the shops are closed she goes out to eat. A lot. Chinese, Indian, Italian, Thai, Japanese, British, French, Spanish, she tried everything available. Her culinary knowledge expanded. So did her waistline.

Her university years are spent in pedestrian cities so she’s somewhat saved by walking around everywhere. The fat cells don’t grow as fast. Towards the end of her studies she even made the effort of joining a gym, get a personal trainer, and was on the way to get stomach definition. Then, of course she had to move to a car city where the only walking done is around the mall and when doing photocopies at work. All those stomach muscles slowly pack their bags and migrate out.

But that wasn’t really bad. Yes, by then she’s officially overweight, but there’s still hope as her new office was on the third floor with no elevator. Although all those snacking during creative meetings didn’t really helped at least those ghastly shooting schedule balanced it out. Then she got pregnant. Quit work. Have another child. And now she’s seriously overweight.

While she knows she needs to exercise, she finds it really hard to get going. Someone needs to whup her ass. Or at least commiserate on the treadmill together. So, who would like to walk together?


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