Archive for July 14th, 2011

July 14, 2011

Fat

Ok, I don’t normally talk about my weight/body online. I stay out of wedding gown sizing discussions and body issue talks because I get the standard “you’re thin, your opinion doesn’t count” responses. I get it. It’s hard to believe that someone who is your opposite (in your eyes) can sympathize with you.

But let’s get real.

I’m 5’7″, I weigh anywhere between 125 and 135 depending on the time of the month, and I wear a size 4. At my heaviest (in high school) I was 165 lbs. At my lightest (due to massive illness and EXTREMELY dangerous) I was just under 100 lbs. I recognize and acknowledge that I am VERY blessed to have genetics pre-disposed to keeping me relatively thin. People repeatedly refer to me as “tiny”, but then are shocked to discover my clothes fit them.

I don’t use scales, but measure my shape by if my clothing fits or not. And when my body decided it was most comfortable to sit 5 lbs heavier than it did when I was 23 I just rolled with it.

At the same time … I have heavy thighs and hips that will definitely help with childbirth. When I put weight on, I generally do so between my knees and chest. Whatever, it’s how I do. I’m not EVER going to look good in a pair of leggings or skinny jeans, and that’s ok.

My husband is a runner. He’s currently training for a marathon. I think he’s crazy, but running’s his thing. Enough so, that it’s inspired me to start. Anyone who’s been over here knows my plan is to build up enough stamina to run a 10k the same day as his first marathon. Right now I’m only at day 2 of my learning-to-run quest, so it’s mostly walking. 30 seconds of running to every 4.5 minutes of walking, to be specific. Over the course of 50 minutes, that’s 3 miles. Not too shabby for only being on day 2, hmm?

Last night, I was on one of three treadmills in the “fitness center” of our apartment building. Both of the others were being used (it was an unusually busy night). About 30 minutes in, another girl comes in. She’s clearly a runner (complete with some college’s track team shorts). She spends the next 20 minutes sighing and glaring at me. When I finished my workout and got off the treadmill she immediately came up to me and said:

“Look, you fat bitch. If you’re just going to be walking the whole time you don’t deserve to take up a treadmill for so long. Your fat ass can walk somewhere else.”

::blinks::

I’m sorry. What?!

The guy who’d been running next to me stopped his treadmill and looked like he was about ready to throttle her. I responded:

“Sweetheart, you don’t know the FIRST thing about me. I’d appreciate it if you’d just continue your workout without bothering anyone.”

She continued to get in my face, repeatedly calling me “fat” and “bitch” (she was barely 5 feet tall and probably weighed about 100 lbs). I shook my head at her, picked up my water bottle, and left.

And then cried telling the husband about it.

WHAT. THE. EFF. is wrong with people? Where is this sense of entitlement and I’m-better-than-you mentality coming from? Where have we, as a society, gone so far off the mark that people think it’s OK to berate someone for making them wait, or because of how they look? It saddens me that people seem to be lacking basic decency, and disgusts me that we have a society that will continue to tell those people they are right in whatever they do. Lord, look at Jersey Shore. These kids have made HUGE names for themself by having gaudy fashion sense and being asshats to everyone outside their little group.

I need to make clear here, I am not taking what she threw at me as the truth. I know that no matter how stupid I looked in those workout pants (heavy thighs after all), I am not fat. I cried because it was flat-out mean. And it’s made me a little skittish around people, for fear of another confrontation.

What people keep seeming to miss is that we’re all in this TOGETHER. With encouragement and support instead of ridicule and malice, we can get so, so far.

So, who out there can relate in some way? Let’s open it up. Weight. Fitness. Confrontation. Perception. Who has something to share?