An eight year old could tell you that when you go from being obese or overweight to being a “normal” weight that you are going to look different. This observation is far from groundbreaking. And obviously, the more weight you lose, the more you will look different and of course feel different.
Doctors, medical professionals and physical trainers will all give you motivational reasons to continue on your weight loss journey. “Your foot pain will stop.” “You can climb stairs without shortness of breath.” “Your range of motion will improve”… blah blah blah. I don’t mean to discredit any of those changes, as they have made a direct improvement upon my life.But there are many more exciting and I’ll admit – vain – changes that I get a kick out of even more! Things like getting to shove more dirty laundry into your apartment’s washing machine, and ultimately stretching your $1.50, because your clothes are smaller. Not having to worry about which chairs have arm rests on them when you’re looking for a seat. And calling your husband over to you in a panic because you think you have a hernia, just to determine that it was in fact your ribs that you can now feel on your chest.
So many fun and amazing changes, I could seriously go on forever! There is one thing however, that has recently changed for me and it really has become a pain in the ass.
Shaving my arm pits.
I am not naive enough to believe that I was going to lose fat in an even fashion around the entire circumference of my body. However, it has now become a constant struggle for me just to maneuver the razor into a position to keep it flat against my skin while trying to get around the Grand Canyon of the underarm. The way in which I have lost fat in my arm pit is astounding to me. Was there honestly that much fat in my armpits?! Perhaps being overweight was a bonus when it came to this particular area of personal hygiene? Sure, having a fatter neck and shoulder area made it harder to see, but that is what mirrors are for. Now, I am stuck twisting and stretching my elbow as far away from my body as possible to create a level surface to avoid cutting myself, cutting myself anyways and then I have another arm to shave.
I think back to when I first started shaving with a razer. Probably my early teens. I don’t seem to recall having this hard of a time shaving my arm pits. I have vivid memories of trying to shave my knees, nicking myself and the immediate burning sensation as the shaving cream entered my flesh wound. But armpits? Nope, no struggle comes to mind. I’m sure you’ve had conversations with people where you talk about the advice you would like to give your teenage self if you could go back in time. That seems a little one sided to me. I wouldn’t mind having a full on discussion with the girl I used to be. Sure, there are things I would advise myself about – like growing a pair and punching that bully in the face the next time she spit on me. But I would have some hard hitting questions for myself too. Such as what exactly was going through my head when I duct taped cardboard slabs to my arms and attempted to “fly” off the roof of my garage. And now I have another question to add to that list….”How on earth did I master shaving my pits?”