Because I Have Boobies

Oh, the Google hits I'll get from for this little title. My sister-in-law made me do it! She has me in a headlock even as I type, really…

This post is all about being a woman (so men, you are free to go play some Xbox or tell a ref to keep his day-job or cut down a tree or somethin'), It's about having the potential to birth and nourish the birth-ed. It's about the fact that women are designed to possess more fat than men. Designed! It's about the birthin' hips, the extra fat to help protect the womb – and them boobies, them girls are All. Fat.

In December, both my husband and I took a body composition test. It was in a human-sized-egg-shaped-container called the BOD POD. This time-machine lookin’ thang is said to give one of the most accurate readings of lean mass and fat mass.

Now, I have been working very hard the last 2 years to shed baby weight and ready my body for various triathlons and running events, oh, and smaller jeans. Consistent. Purposeful. Hard.

My point – Imagine my dismay when the not-so-consistent, purposeful and hard-training husband arrived home with his great news. Oh joy in all the land! We carry the EXACT SAME POUNDAGE OF FAT. Like, Fatty Fat. The same. To the tenth of a pound. ??.7 lbs. Imagine.

I am not going to publish how much I weigh. No one needs that kind of information. I’ll give up this – I weigh 1 pound less than it says on my driver's license. I think I'm supposed to get a new license because isn't it the law that we are supposed to weigh at least 10 pounds more than what our license says?

I digress,

Before hearing HIS results, I was content with I landing at 29.7% fat. That is 3 tenths within the “healthy” range for women. I was happy with “within” and “healthy” until, HE (did I type that as loud as I said that?) landed, like, 2 percent “within healthy” for men. A whole entire 2-friggin' percent. Has HE been getting up earlier than roosters for months? NOOOO. I. HAVE. Did HE log 83 miles in 4 weeks before his 3RD half- marathon? Take a guess.

He says to me, he said, “SOOOOOOO,. You have as much fat as a 240 pound man”. I said, “Oh Honey, Sweetie, Schmoopie, that shirt doesn't make you look fat, it's your face,”