Jessie's Journal (10/1/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

When I got home from play practice tonight, sissy was on the sofa watching TV and eating French fries directly from a Styrofoam to-go container.

“Want to come to the gym with me?” I asked her. 

Ever since Rachel dropped her nugget about my being only 20 pounds or so from overtaking Michelle, I’ve been exercising like a demon.  It’s like I’m sprinting toward the finish line of a race.   Inviting Michelle to tag along might seem counterintuitive, but where’s the joy in winning a race when the other competitor isn’t even trying?

“Can’t,” sissy said, lifting a foot from the sofa and shaking it.

Last week, sissy was diagnosed with Plantar fasciitis.  The podiatrist said it was from all the abuse she had put her body through playing soccer (same as her physician had said about her back pain) and recommended rest.  Since then, she’s acted like she was given a prescription to sit on her ass and watch TV.

“Then we’ll make it an arm day,” I urged.  “C’mon, it will be fun!”

“Jesus, leave me alone.”

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged.  Then I ran upstairs, satisfied I had fulfilled my promise to Dr. Chen to try to involve Michelle in my fitness regimen.  Of course, token gestures are easy to make when you know they’ll be refused.  Sissy still didn’t want to be seen at the gym with me—only now it wasn’t because she thought I’d drag her down, but because she was afraid I’d show her up.

The more things change, the more things stay the same. 

As I changed into my workout clothes, I tried to guess which of my body parts might look better than Michelle’s now.  I think my legs might actually look better.  That’s amazing to think, considering how tanned and toned sissy’s legs used to be from all that running up and down the soccer field.  Now her thighs were pale and jiggly, and looked like they were storing up fat and cellulite for the winter.  I guess it makes sense.  Her body was diverting excess energy to the areas it thought needed it.  It hadn’t realized yet that Michelle’s soccer days were done.

Unfortunately, that's about it…so far.  She’s a pear, so most of her gain has gone to her lower half, which has allowed her to retain a relatively pleasing shape.  I’m an apple and, despite losing 50+ pounds, still look like an apple.   Only now, I look less like a Fuji and more like a McIntosh.

One area I’ve gained on her (or she’s gained on me) is in the face.  Michelle, objectively, has a prettier face than I do, but her delicate features weren’t designed to support a double chin and chipmunk cheeks.  My face, on the other hand, is wide and angular, and has more surface area to accommodate growth. 

I may never be the pretty sister, but just like with our weight, the gap is closing!

--Jessie