Jeans. You know them, as do I. I like them in blue and black, mostly in the latter. For men, women’s jeans are strictly for viewing pleasure (or horror).
For women, however, jeans are the indicator of how big or small we’re getting. Like many women—except for you obnoxious ladies who stay forever small--I own many pairs of jeans in many sizes, ranging from sizes six to sixteen. I only own one set of sixteens, however. Having to buy those was my wake up call and after only two weeks of working out, they were too big. I had been a fourteen for several years and after a month of working out, they were too big.
Today, after two and half months of hellacious cardio three days a week and rather fun--there are good-looking guys in there--but intense weight-lifting three days a week, I got into the size tens! Comfortably.
I even tried on one of the eights (dang, they look tiny). Got ‘em on, but not buttoned. Three months ago, I couldn’t even get them over the hump (my backside).
It is a wonderful feeling. I’m shooting for six.
At the base gym where I work out, there are huge picture windows in the weight room and the cardio room facing the gym parking lot. This parking lot is shared with the base headquarters building, which is located next to the gym. Lots of civilian workers there, including lots of middle-aged ladies, like myself. Lots of big ladies. Really big ladies. No, I mean BIG. Not just the kind that are twenty or thirty pounds overweight, but the kind that are carrying an extra person with them. These ladies don't walk, they roll. Everytime I see one going into the HQ building when I'm looking out of one of the windows, I work just a little bit harder. I was on my way.
For the past couple of weeks, however, I've seen a couple of really large ladies coming into the gym. One had asked me what my routine was and I told her. When I mentioned weights, the two balked, but I think I'm going to encourage them to try it next time I see them. I'd love to see two that size get fit and love it.