I’m overweight for a runner. For a cyclist. For a swimmer. For a triathlete. For a Spin class enthusiast. For a soccer player.
I’m overweight, period. I’ve never been the skinny one or the “little one” or what not.
I’ve always had a problem with food. An unhealthy relationship to say the least. I lean on it like it’s the only reliable friend that’s left in the world. When I’m having problems of any size, there it sits, waiting for me.
It’s an addiction.
But 2 years ago, I fell in love with something that changed my life. Running. Just putting one foot in front of the other, until I couldn’t think anymore. Until all the drama, the bad thoughts, the anger, the hurt, the sadness was gone and all that was left was me.
And that’s when it got better.
I lost weight. I got happier. I wanted things for me. I got control of my own life again.
Even if the only control I had was how long my runs were. It was something to grasp to.
But, I’ve never gotten to the point of what is considered in society, “skinny”. I’m still not there, even after 2 years. I work my ass off, but there are bad days just like everyone else. And sometimes I let them get the best of me, but the next day you better believe I’m in the gym showing my body the attention it DESERVES.
Sometimes, I get looks.
Not always bad. Sometimes really judgmental. Sometimes full of approval.
No, I’m not skinny, but you better believe I’ll be out there working my ass off because I’m worth it. Do I need to be skinny to show you that? No. Is it something I work towards because I want it? Yes.
I log more hours in the gym that half of the juice-heads combined.
I log more miles in a single run than some 3 year olds can count up to.
I go as fast as cars when I ride my bike. Sometimes.
I do this for me. And honestly, that’s the healthiest outlook I’ve ever had.
So, for those who give looks to me at the gym because you think I’m too fat, because you think you’re better than me, more in shape than me, pulling more weight or reps than I am, or going faster than me…
or for those who give me the “holy cow look how hard she’s going”, she’s really pressing that much weight, look how deep her squats are, I swear I saw her 10 miles ago look….
Those looks fuel me. They drive me.
Those looks will be a part of the reason I will achieve greatness.
The rest will be on me.