Sunday, April 15

Fat People Working Out

How do you feel when you see a fattie working out? What are your first thoughts? That they're doing it to lose weight? That you hope they are okay? Are you happy that they're getting "healthy?"

Well, last week I started working out. Maybe it is to lose a little of the extra weight I've gained from moving in with mom and actually having hearty meals to eat, but it isn't to try to be some weight that would never happen. No unrealistic expectations here. I think that's the main flaw whenever someone starts working out. They want to look like Jennifer Anniston. They want to have flat abs and they want to walk without their thighs touching. Well, that's not my goal, but it used to be. Pretty dreamy, huh?

I wanted to start some sort of activity because I feel like a lazy ass. Yeah, I walk on campus and stuff but eh, that's not really exercise. I reminisced to when I used to work out and that high I'd get afterwards. I missed that, well I still do! Which is why I decided that I am going to be active.
Buuuuut, I had a minor setback. Last Sunday, I was going to lay down for a nap and I jumped out of bed and said, no! I'm going to go get on the treadmill in the fitness center! And I did. I was so motivated. I got my new shoes on. My sports bra was cuddling my breasts in. I had on old leggings. I was ready. The walk up the stairs seemed like horror, I wanted to walk right back down them and go sit down. But I didn't. It was so hard getting up those steps and I'm not going to let that be my life. So I'm walking down the hall, iPhone and earbuds in one hand, towel and water in the other. My heart was beating fast and I was already sweating. Nervous. Heart beat. Bum bum. Bum bum. Hard.

I got in the room. I saw a lone treadmill and elliptical, both of which seemed miles away from me. I got on that treadmill and I just started walking. I turned on pandora and I listened to Rihanna and Gaga and I was set. But then, I got a little too motivated. I started jogging. Turned the speed up to 4-5 and went for it. Then, I noticed my thighs hurting. I figured it was because, well, they rub together. Then, I realized it was because my old, worn out leggings had holes in the right thigh. I didn't care, I liked this feeling. This rush of a hard heart beat and sweat. My feet on the treadmill. I was proud of myself. I did my thing for 32 minutes and went down to the apartment.

My thigh was a raw, bloody mess. My skin must have peeped out of my leggings and rubbed on my other thigh. It hurt like damn hell. The absolute worst case of chafing I'd ever ever had. An all day King's Island trip had nothin' on this damn treadmill. I was absolutely miserable.

The next day I woke up and wanted to do something, but my leg hurt so so bad I was scared. I found a seated cardio workout, assuming it was made for people who'd recently had hip replacements done, I thought it'd be cake. I did it. It was hard! Then I did a butt blaster thing and by god, the next day I was sore as fuck.

The rest of the week I was letting my poor thigh heal, and it just did this weekend. (if you saw me walking weird this week, that's why)

So, I'm a fat girl working out. I'm not working out to lose the 150 or so pounds that stupid charts tell me, I'm just working out to feel better. Mom and I were talking earlier about doing it together, going to the gym and getting in our half an hour. I don't want to over exert myself. I get burnt out quickly and I don't want that.

So, to keep myself dedicated I am dedicating a day of each week to blogging about my weekly work out experience. It could be about my body and how it feels, or maybe a post would be about the gym power dynamic. Whatever it is, I feel like its important to give the fat perspective on gyms. I'm dedicating just one day a week because I started back up on the old obsession train, and I will have none of that.

That's all folks!

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