Sweat, baby, sweat

It is time.

After six long, tortuous weeks of doing absolutely zilch, I am finally in the clear to exercise again. Suck on that, ingrown toenail.

I’m going camping for the next few days, but I’m itching to hit the gym and Zumba when I get back. There’s something sickeningly satisfying about feeling beads of sweat drip down your body when you’re working out. And boy, do I sweat.

I don’t get that “glow” that most girls have when they exercise. Instead, my face turns bright red, I sweat buckets, and I huff and puff like the big bad wolf. It ain’t pretty. I don’t particularly care how I look or how much I sweat when I work out. But at other times, (fat-induced) sweating is actually embarrassing and one of the worst parts of being pleasantly plump.

Summers in my city are notoriously hot and humid, making for frizzy hair and sweaty skin. But while my friends get a cute dewy complexion, I get a thick layer of sweat dripping down my face, melting my make-up and ruining my hair. The worst part about being a fatty in hot weather? Sweat marks BETWEEN YOUR STOMACH ROLLS. Just in case you needed a reminder that you are, indeed, overweight.

I swore that this summer, I wouldn’t be the sweaty monster I usually am, but that surgery set me back some. I’m going to work my butt off (literally) when I get home from camping so I can hopefully reduce that roll-sweat and not almost pass out from heatstroke every time I venture outdoors. All I have to say is: thank God for air conditioning.

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