the fat entry

About a year ago I bumped into an acquaintance at one of those boring industry conferences. We were gathered round the refreshments table and as usual I popped 3 cubes of sugar into my tea. He took one. I teased him, asking how 1 cube was going to keep him awake for the next 2 hours. He looked at me sadly and shook his head. Your metabolism is going to change when you hit 30, he warned me. Then you have to start watching what you eat.

He lied. My metabolism has slowed down a lot earlier than 30. "Huh, you mean you didn't know meh? Your metabolism changes when you hit 25!" That's what a group of unsympathetic friends told me last weekend when I related this unhappy incident, while casting a longing eye on dessert.

I should have seen the warning signs, ever since starting work. First, the six-pack disappeared. I became slow and feeble - suddenly I can't seem to break 10 minutes on my 2.4km run. (This has been effortless ever since Sec 4.) The girlfriend rolls her eyes and says, "I can't believe you're the one complaining about being fat all the time!" "Well you're not the one that has difficulty buckling up your pants," I retort. When I sit down after a heavy meal, my tummy rides up and spills over my belt. The button digs into my belly and it hurts.

I often ask myself what has changed since starting work. Sure, I don't run, but then I never did. I don't particularly think I'm eating more. Probably what is missing most is the exercise. The sports I used to play a few times a week in school. Or even the frisbee I used to play once a week when I first returned. Now mostly I play tennis, which doesn't help.

In badminton or squash, you have to put in every effort to lunge for the ball or shuttle, because there are no second chances. In frisbee, once the disc hits the ground, you've lost it. But for tennis, we have this infinite-bounce rule ... as long as you can dig it off the ground you're good. So there's very little incentive to run for lazy people like me.

Then again, maybe I can just blame it all on the metabolism and accept that life will just never be the same again. Maybe it's time to take up golf. Zynfandel, beware.