Wannabe Skinny

Next month marks the end of my probationary period in my company.

And though I don’t mean to prematurely celebrate it, it still calls for a discreet and private celebration.

Besides working full time from 8 to 5, my office job has nothing more in common with my previous teaching post. Sure, there are upsides and downsides to both jobs, but such a disclosure would only serve as a digression for what I really want to write about.

Two words: Lifestyle. Change.

Ever since I got into a nutrition program a little over a year ago, my life has improved in more ways than one.  I have always struggled with body issues for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest childhood memories was watching Olive Oyl, Popeye’s extremely thin squeeze, and wishing I could be like her.

In my teen years, I experimented with crash diets, slimming pills, and fat-burning soaps and creams – see the pattern? I craved instant beauty. I never liked sports (even though I have a rather soft spot for basketball, having grown up with mostly-guy cousins). I was that girl who either sat on the bleachers reading during P.E., or, if I was feeling particularly rebellious that day, snuck into the school clinic to catch up on some snooze. It should not have come as a surprise that I ballooned during puberty. Then again, I was in high school. All the girls in class started growing 5 inches up and 2 bra sizes overnight, whereas my own body stubbornly remained 5 foot and an itty-bitty 32A. Before long, I started associating my lack of physical endowments to my lack of Friday night dates. Of course, growing up an ugly duckling in swan lake gave me a superior sense of self-identity and independence uncharacteristic of your average 16-year-old, but deep deep down, I wanted to be pretty, skinny, and popular – just like everyone else.

I once had a high school student come up to me and ask how I managed to do so well in my student days. It was an open secret that their new literature and history teacher, a fresh graduate with zero teaching experience, only landed the job having graduated with a Latin honor. “Two words, kids,” I told her and the rest of the girls who cared enough to listen: “No. Boyfriend.” The class broke into a laugh. That should have been a moment of triumph, but what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t so much a choice as it was a given; on the months that led up to college graduation, I lost the first boy I ever loved to a skinny girl (who may or may not have other redeeming qualities besides looking good in a bikini.)

But back up a bit – where am I rambling off to? Ah yes. Fast forward to 2015, I met up with a much-admired girl friend for a post-Christmas dinner. She wore a body-hugging dress, and she looked great! That one compliment I gave her led her to introduce me to my current nutrition program. Before long, I was shedding excess weight like a pro. Every pound lost meant self-confidence gained. I was finally inching close to my childhood dream of becoming skinny – “Healthy,” my power couple nutritionists often reminded me. Whatever, I dropped 10 pounds just in time for the summer which meant shopping, beaches, and parties.

But life isn’t always idyllic. Late last year, I received devastating news which forced me to pack my bags and play expat in this lovely new city of Dubai.

Now, I’m usually a very adaptable person. I like to pride myself into thinking that I can thrive in the alligator-infested Louisiana bayou…

… But I digress.

Where my health is concerned, I don’t like to take any chances.

That is exactly why I wound up smuggling 2 boxes of my nutrition program’s recommended meal substitute in my luggage. I say “smuggling” because I didn’t have the lady balls to ask ahead if they’re actually legal in the U.A.E.

On my first food out here, I was, for the lack of a modern word, appalled by the serving sizes of the city’s wide selection of fast food chains. You can eat a regular McDonald’s burger for PHP 25.00 in the Philippines. No drinks and no fries, but you get a lumpy edible sandwich anyway. No way can you buy anything at PHP 25.00 or AED 2.00 at McDonald’s here. Gravy’s even at AED 3.00 (around PHP 36.00) – and no, you can’t get it for free.

For a born-and-bred Cebuana, everything is bigger in Dubai: the food servings, the food prices, even the people! You can tell if a Filipina just flew in by the size of her butt. 3 out of 5 Filipinas gain weight (a looottt of weight) when they come to Dubai, no thanks to the metropolitan lifestyle which is generally characterized by a love of fast food in massive portions and a general abhorrence for walking distances as short as across the street.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, I made that statistic up, but that’s okay so long as it drives the point home.

I gave myself a month to indulge on the neighborhood chicken biryani, Baskin Robbins ice cream, and Vanellis pizzas and pastas.

Until I finally said: “Easy on the Nutella, girl.”

Working at the office didn’t make things any easier. I only ever got up my desk to use the washroom or the photocopy machine. I knew I had to act fast.

I started running after work. I asked one of my flat mates to show me the best places to run in our area. Distance-wise, Karama Park wins, but what Zabeel Park lacks in terms of distance it more than makes up for with its large space and rubberized tracks. So now, even if office work is way more sedentary than teaching, it also leaves me a lot more free time at home in the absence of papers to check and lectures to plan. I can go out at night and bask under the bright lights of the Sheikh Zayed Road skyscrapers – the Burj Khalifa included.

Drinking my meal substitute shake just isn’t the same without my nutritionists breathing down my neck, but I try to stick to it once or twice a day anyway.

A week ago, I came across a blog that praised the wonders of a desk cycle, this portable and discreet mechanism which could magically turn your boring office day into a productive workout sesh.

I hunted down the cheapest one I could find online, got it delivered last Monday, and brought it to work yesterday. It works really great, but my butt is aching for a much better cushion than my swivel chair can provide.

It all comes down to the little choices we make to improve our lifestyle. I’m still no gym buff, nor can I subsist on a paleo or vegetarian diet. I still don’t do sports unless you count my night runs and my occasional dances (or twitch attacks) at the shower. But you know, something? Tell this to yourself using your belly as a mouthpiece:

“People deserve to not be given up on, and you, most of all, should not give up on yourself.”