Fat - An Honest Approach

Fat – An Honest Approach

I am fat.  It’s just a simple truth.  I’m fat, but I don’t see it as a bad thing.  I see my being fat as a horrible thing.  To clarify…I don’t hate myself.  I actually love myself, sometimes a bit more than is healthy for one’s own mental well-being, but I hate the fact that I’m fat.  I guarantee at least one person will comment to me about how I’m not fat…but I can say I’m fat.  I can say whatever I want about myself.  And as I said…I don’t hate myself…I just hate my fat.  So let me lay down why I consider myself fat and why I hate being that way.

Let’s face it, I’m not exactly the picture of health and wellness.  My weight is way over what it should be and my BMI is larger than my bra circumference.  Clothes don’t fit and some days I find going up the stairs to my apartment to be a full cardiovascular workout.  My legs sometimes hurt and I’m pretty much a massive health problem waiting to happen.  Let us start off with Type II Diabetes which is primarily caused by an excess of body fat.  Diabetics have to poke themselves with lancets and needles…and I’m not a fan of needles…let alone poking myself with them on a daily basis.  Yeah…so according to my own form of algebra, if being fat + diabetes = needles daily and if needles daily = sucks….then diabetes sucks and being fat also sucks.  Moving on to cancer.  I’m not a fan of cancer…and my family has had quite enough experience with this disease.  I won’t go into specifics, but between my relatives it seems that my breasts, my pancreas, my liver, and numerous other organs are at risk all because of an excess of body weight.  Cancer isn’t cool and I think my family has spent far enough time in chemo rooms.  If getting rid of the fat will reduce the risk of cancer, then I’m willing to do whatever it takes to change my body and my lifestyle just to avoid ever having to add an Oncologists’ card to my rolodex.  I know I skimmed over breast cancer…so let me backtrack a bit.  I will be perfectly honest here – I like my chest.  I like how they look in shirts and I like buying cutesy fun-colored bras for them.  If I lost them I’d lose one of my favorite shopping items.  Just saying that I would rather like to keep my chest and I need to lose some excess fat in order to do so.  Excess weight weighs heavily (pardon the expression) on other organ systems too.  Fat people have a higher chance of getting:  gall stones, heart disease, hypertension, hyperlipidemia, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, gastroesophageal reflux disease, degenerative joint disease, all sorts of hernias, glaucoma, hypothyroidism, osteoarthritis, pancreatitis, ovarian or colon cancer – the list goes on and on.  There isn’t a single one of those problems that I would consider “cheap” to manage and because I’m incredibly concerned with money, it would seem that the cheapest way to get through life with fewer medical bills is to invest in some good workout clothes and use them so much I wear them out.  Along these same lines, a closely monitored diet can do wonders in enhancing the body’s ability to ward off chronic health issues.  Conditions such as hypertension, hyperlipidemia, gastroesophageal reflux, diabetes, and heart disease are all fairly easily prevented with some simple dietary modifications.

My dating life sucks and I blame this primarily on my weight.  No guy wants to give the fat girl the time of day when a bunch of skinny ones are readily available.  Personality only gets you so far and in a society that is so obsessed with image, no one gets to know your personality unless you look like you’re in “their league”.  Don’t get me wrong here…I get my fair share of guys hitting on me but I am, and I will sound like a bitch when I say this, better than them.  As I see it, I deserve better than a player, a cheater, a con-man, a momma’s boy, a tool, a loser, a guy who still lives at home at the age of 30, a guy with no job, a guy with no future plans/goals beyond working at Wendy’s, a guy with kids from 3 different women, etc.  Need I go on?  I probably could if you asked me to.  I deserve better than what I’m catching.  I don’t know much about fishing…but I do know that if you don’t like what you’re catching, you’ve got to change the bait and the lure.  For all intents and purposes, I’m a great catch.  I’ve got a personality like no other, I can make any situation fun, I have a variety of interests, I’m financially independent, I’ve got a job, I’m driven, I have goals for my life and my future, I have furniture in an apartment that is actually all paid for (no Rent-a-Center for me).  As I see it, these all make me an excellent catch…but no one will be fishing for me without a change to the outside.  I’m sort of like an oyster…a pearl inside but I have an exterior shell that few men want to take the time to crack.

Another reason for my drive to continue is that my current physical condition is keeping me from doing some things I really love.  Anyone who knows me knows that I love spending money.  I love shopping…I get a high from shopping.  But I am limiting myself to shopping for only purses and shoes at this point because I don’t see a point in buying clothes that fit me but depress me with their size.  I also love showing horses.  I’m incredibly excited about moving the horse to a trainer so she’ll be ready to show but I don’t fit into my show clothes…and even when I did fit in my show clothes it wasn’t always a great fit.  I want new show clothes but I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay for plus-size show clothing.  I can’t wait to get zipped into the heavy leather chaps and wear a shirt that’s got so much bling I can be seen from the moon.  But no way am I going to put bling on my current bod.  Shiny things attract attention and the last thing my fat rolls need are thousands of Swarovski crystals screaming “Look at me!  Look at me!” as I ride my way around the show ring.  It hurts to hold myself back from show clothes because as everyone knows…I love shiny things…and I love horses…so anything that combines my love of those two things is a real loss to miss out on.

The other reason I need to shape up is because I am tired of the comments made.  I don’t want to incriminate my own mom…God knows I love her…but I get tired of hearing “That would be so cute if you were 10 pounds lighter,” every time we go shopping.  I know she means well…and I know she’s just speaking her mind like she taught me to do.  Without her teaching me to be honest and speak my mind, I would never be able to be so candid in a blog posting.  I’ve never felt fully accepted as a fat girl in my family.  I sometimes think that my mom would have preferred a skinny daughter to the one she got.  It’s not my fault I inherited dad’s ability to look at food and gain 5 pounds…but it does make it harder to be the daughter that my mom wants.  I know that she wanted a daughter who was skinny and fearless and would fit into whatever size 2 show outfit she would pay for.  I ended up being the opposite.  I am short and fat and am pretty much terrified of everything.  I was lucky to fit into a size 12 show top when I was in my youth.  It sucks.  I have vowed to myself to be the daughter that mom always wanted…which just so happens to be the person I want to be anyway.  To anyone reading this, please don’t think less of my mom.  She is an amazing woman and has been an amazing mom.  She has been supportive and has helped me achieve my dreams.  She is always behind whatever crazy scheme I put in my head.  And above all, she has always meant well but has sometimes faltered on the approach.  Who here can say their parents have never done the same?

So there we are.  I’m fat.  I own my fat.  I’m not proud of my fat.  I’m now determined to change the fact that I’m fat.  All I ask for is your support as I do so because the end result will be the same Jessi…just a much better looking one.

Running With Style (Or Maybe Not)

In the last couple of months I’ve spent quite a lot of my time out on the Waxahachie Hike & Bike Trail.  For anyone not familiar with it, let me say that it has been, by far, my favorite discovery since my travels in nursing brought me to Texas.  It’s a nicely paved trail winding through fields and woods and it stretches 7.5 miles from start to finish (3.75 miles one way, and the same distance back).  I’ve always loved people-watching but during my time on the trail I found a way to mix what I love to do (watch people) with something I have to do (get in shape for the Susan G Komen 3-Day for the Cure which, coincidentally, I still need massive amounts of donations for…you can help find a cure by donating at www.the3day.org/goto/jessi.winther).  Sorry…had to throw a plug in there somewhere.  I’m trying to get my sorry ass in shape for this breast cancer walk.  “Why,” you may ask, “do you have to get in shape to walk?”  Let me answer with the shortest and sweetest response I can come up with…5 simple words -- 60 miles in 3 days.  Yes.  I have to be capable of walking 60 miles in 3 days, or an average of 20 miles per day.  This may not seem like much, but let me remind y’all that I’m the person who complained when someone parked their Jet-ski in my spot at my apartment complex which forced me to walk an average of 10 feet further to get into my apartment.  But I digress because, as is so common with anything I say, I have strayed from the true topic of this post.

As I was saying, I’ve taken to people-watching while out on the trail and I find the strangest of the human species is that beast that is called the runner.  Runners are sort of funny to watch.  I’m not saying that running is funny…it’s an excellent form of exercise and I admire them for pushing their lungs, their hearts, and their muscles in pursuit of a fitter self.  What I mean is that runners themselves are a funny breed.  Everyone seems to have their own specific running style.  Below I will highlight some of the various “running styles”.

The Slow-Mo Runner

The slow motion runner is just that…a person who is running but appears to be running in slow motion.  You see geriatric women with orthopedic shoes and walkers pass them at times.  You can actually count the number of seconds their individual feet are on the ground for.  It makes me wonder if they might actually get more cardiovascular benefit from a good power walk.  The slow motion runner isn’t concerned with speed (apparently) or the amount of time it takes to get from point A to point B (obviously), but they’re out there running regardless.  And I admire someone with that much dedication to their sport.

The Velociraptor

The velociraptor is the runner who makes me laugh the most.  They take strange long and bounding steps with their feet and all the while their arms are in strange configurations.  Often their hands look like they are missing fingers…like every other finger has been contracted up against their palms.  And their elbows are always at 90 degree angles…making them look like some descendant of an escapee from Jurassic Park.  They look like they’ve got permanent contractures and when I see them bounding toward me I often wonder if anyone is protecting the local goat population.  Granted they are intensely athletic but just seeing them makes my shoulders, elbows, and other parts of my upper extremities ache with sympathy.

The Pain and Suffering Runner

This one can actually be a combination of the previous two styles.  They just look like they’re always in pain.  I realize that no pain equals no gain, but really…does it do any good to suffer for the entire 7 miles of your workout?  Well does it?  They look like they’re on the verge of tears and are generally drenched in sweat.  It is impossible for the mere observer to determine if the sweat is because of a full cardiovascular workout or because of the stress response of the body.  We may never know.

The Exhibitionist

This one just bugs me…probably because I wish I could do what they do and not be mistaken for a resident mammal at Sea World.  This is the runner who seems to have lost all of her clothing.  Really…she’s wearing the bare minimum required to keep her from being picked up for public exposure.  Usually a sports bra and shorts that are so close to the crotch that her ovaries may become visible if not careful.  I only single out women for this because when men dress in next-to-nothing to workout it’s not considered exhibitionism…it’s considered eye-candy.

The Gazelle

This is the runner I’m most jealous of because it’s the runner I’m least like.  The gazelle is pure poetry in running form.  They are tall and lanky and they don’t run…they appear to float along.  It’s as if the Gods have attached wings to their shoes and they are really pretty to watch.  They move with strength, grace, and speed and they seem to do it all so effortlessly.  They’ve generally got no visible body fat and they tend to make me feel a bit bad about myself.  I wish with all my heart that I was a gazelle.  I think best in the form of animals…so let me put this into horse-terms.  If the gazelle type runner was a quarter horse…they would be an appendix Hunt type horse.  Appendix hunt horses are tall and skinny.  They can eat all the feed in the bin and never gain an ounce.  They have smooth, sinewy muscles and are light on their feet despite being fairly large.  If I was a quarter horse, I’d be a halter horse.  Halter horses are shorter, stocky, have chunky and bunched up muscles, have really pretty faces, and in general have really bad legs.  I could be described this way.  I’m short (obviously) and chunky, I’ve got a pretty face (or so I seem to think), I have leg problems of my own, and my muscles are more reminiscent of chunks of clay that have been put on a form without being smoothed out.  I have chunk of clay muscles instead of rubber band muscles.  Perhaps this is why I really suck at running.  My body just isn’t made for running.  My chunky muscles don’t help me cover ground but they do help me do deadlifts.  My muscles are made for lifting and pulling.  Being a halter horse wouldn’t be so bad though (despite the crappy legs and the constant need for a neck sweat).  After all, as a halter horse you’d get a nice stall under lights, you’d be wrapped in blankets year round (appealing because I’m notoriously always cold), you’d get turned out once a day, and you’d get practically all the sweet feed and alfalfa you could ingest.  I think being a hunt horse type would be really cool though – being able to run with such ease of movement…being able to clear a 3-foot fence without even trying, looking like a picture of beauty and grace when you move (as opposed to looking like a four-legged penguin).  Yeah…I’m envious of those damn gazelles-type runners…I may never be one but I can always dream.

            So by now I’m sure you’re asking what type of runner I am.  The answer is easy…I’m none of the above.  I don’t run.  As described earlier, my body doesn’t allow for easy running.  I’m a walker.  I may be a walker for the social aspect alone.  Walkers by nature are social creatures.  You always see a herd of walkers out on the trails, or a couple of ladies walking alongside eachother in their dress clothes and Nikes while on their lunch break from work.  Hell, you even see entire packs of power-walkers if you hit the trails at the right time.  Walkers are social.  They’re seldom found alone and they’re always willing to offer a friendly smile accompanied by a warm “Hello.”  Walkers tend to look out for eachother too.  Rarely do you see a group of walkers who leave a straggler behind.  Walking is sort of like a team activity…it’s not fully accomplished unless everyone is kept together in the pack.  The speedier walkers actually adjust their pace to that of the slower member of the group.  You don’t see this with running.  Runners are very seldom seen bunched together in a group.  Runners tend to be less about the “team” and more about the individual victory.  Walkers celebrate the successes of their counterparts while runners seem almost self-absorbed in their own pursuit of the perfect mile.  I don’t blame runners for this one bit.  It I was expending that much of my caloric intake you can guarantee that I would not be wasting calories maintaining a slow jog next to the less agile member of the pack.  Running is pursuit of fitness through the individual victory.  While writing this, I realize that I would love to be a runner.  Then I’d have an excuse to be out on the trail alone.  I’m not a social walker at this point in my life…only because I don’t have any other walkers to be social with.  I’m one of the few walkers you’ll find out on the trail all alone…working hard on my own in pursuit of fitness (or at least in pursuit of the ability to walk up all 40 steps to my 3^rd floor apartment without an audible wheeze and some mild muscle fatigue.   Walking may not seem like as much fun as running.  There isn’t the overwhelming feeling of freedom and “one-ness” that you get from running but that’s OK with me.  I set my goals and I walk as far as I need to in order to reach them.  Some days while walking I feel like Superwoman.  Nothing is better than finishing a good 8+ miles while dripping with sweat and feeling like you can still do more.  Some days aren’t so awesome.  Some days I come limping in for the last half mile and I wonder to myself why I do it.  I then answer myself with the only answer that seems logical.  I do it because I have to (more on this to come later).  I do it because I want to (again…I’m still in need of donations for the Susan G Komen 3-Day for the Cure).  I do it because I can.  So to all you runners out there, keep running.  I’ll see you while I’m walking (you’ll most likely be the ones passing me while I massage out my lower leg cramps alongside the 1 mile marker), and I’ll always give you a friendly smile and “Hello” as you bound along.  Know that I’m envious of your running and I look forward to one day joining your elite group of athletes known as “the runners”.  Until then, I’ll see you out on the trail.