When I was in college, I would spend the summer months working in St. Louis for a company that tries to prevent people from collecting unemployment benefits. (It’s a long story. It never really matched up with my core values, and because I hate to compromise when it comes to Values, I eventually transferred over to switchboard operating which might sound like a demotion, but it sure didn’t feel like one because I was fed many more cupcakes and catered lunches as an operator than I was as a claim investigator. PLUS, the pay was exactly the same! Now! Back to our story!)
Because my summer months were often spent trying to lose the weight I had gained the year before in college, my lunch as a switchboard operator (when I wasn’t enjoying catering or cupcakes) normally consisted of Slim-Fast and strawberries. A few people rolled their eyes at me, and looking back I can see why: I was probably weighing in at 120 and desperately trying to get back to 107 before school started in the fall. In other words, I probably didn’t need to drop any weight, but it was A Thing. So, there I sat with my little can of diet drink and my fresh fruit trying to make conversation with the (seemingly depressed, mostly crabby) throngs of people who sucked down Chinese leftovers and tubes of Pringles. (I worked with over 300 people. I can name all of the pleasant ones in the time it would take you to say “You take my life when you take the means whereby I live.” (Shakespeare was sort of a stud, wasn’t he?))
I exited that company for the last time more than a dozen years ago, and in that dozen years I’ve signed on for MANY types of weight loss whims. I drank nothing but soup for weeks at a time. I took weight loss pills. I ate a bunch of grapefruit. I didn’t eat anything.
I have a number of tragic flaws. My inability to accept what I see in the mirror is probably my worst.
When one of my favorite people called a few weeks back to report that Groupon was offering Hot Pants for next to nothing, I was all over it. Supposedly, you can wear these things for two weeks, and you just might drop two pants sizes. (Some people say you need to wear them during exercise. Others say they did next to nothing and still dropped the inches. One woman actually reported losing four inches from each thigh and all she did was light gardening and housework, and that’s why you can’t believe everything you read on the internet!)
I’ve been wearing skirts for the past week. Do you want to know why?
I decided to take the Two Week Hot Pants Challenge, and I decided to do it slothfully. (I still have the boot for two more weeks, meaning I really can’t move around very much. This is not a bad thing. I don’t like moving around very much. Hot Pants!) The two week challenge involves wearing the pants all day and all night. The only time I’ve taken them off is to shower, and then I quickly put them back on again. Surprisingly, they don’t stink. (Believe me. I’m highly paranoid of being stinky.)
This is what I know: The Hot Pants make me sweat like crazy. I’m now drinking 64 ounces of water every day (at least), and all 64 ounces are dripping off of my hips, legs, and butt. I’m totally okay with that, because it feels like something is happening. (I just hope the something has nothing to do with an unfortunate infection brought on by sitting in puddles of my own sweat. I know! It’s nastiness! Hot Pants!)
After one week of wearing the pants, here are my results:
My hips are exactly the same size as they were one week ago.
My thighs are exactly the same size as they were one week ago.
The texture of my skin is the same as it was one week ago.
And, yes. Deep down I sort of knew that this would be the case. There is no such thing as a pair of pants that will change your shape as you sit on the couch eating kale chips. (So many kale chips!) I’ll take my measurements again at the end of the challenge, but I have a funny feeling I won’t be seeing any changes. Because I take less than 1,000 steps per day! (I’m not proud of that. Don’t think I’m proud of that.)
So, anyway. One week down, and one to go.
Sing it with me! Hot Pants!
(Wait! Don’t hit my comment box and go all nutty on how ridiculous I am! I know myself even better than you know me! That is a fact!)