Trial # 3: Avoid Detection

I don't know what it is about being fat that draws the attention of everyone around you.

Now, I know I'm not just being paranoid. Whenever I stroll down the street eyes follow me. It doesn't matter if I try to stare them down. It doesn't even matter if I ignore them they just follow me. Don't get me wrong, the eyes are not just floating and staring at me, they're usually connected to some gaping adult.

Children, though, are the worst. They just keep staring and starting, mouth open, bug-eyed, and seemingly disgusted!

Ugh, I hate it. That's why I decided that when I was at my most vulnerable (i.e. trying to exercise) I would do it by the cover of darkness. You could call me the fat batman of running! Except I don't have a utility belt, a cape, and I don't really have any similarity to Batman other than we both use the cover of darkness! But outside of that, we're basically the same entity.

Anyway, I was up at 4:45 to run yesterday and I didn't run into any problems (outside of not being able to run, the extreme fatigue, muscle cramps, and perpetual death wish that was always quite close to my conception of myself). Today, however, was a different story all together.

I've already explained how I got all suited up! No, not like this. So, there I am and the last thing I want to happen is for anyone to see me. I walk out of my apartment and down the balcony to the staircase. It turns out that one of my neighbors decided it would be a great day to sit out on the balcony and use her laptop at 4:45am! C'mon lady, what's wrong with you. You should have seen her eyes. If they weren't so droopy from lack of sleep, they definitely were shocked to see me!

I quickly (and by quickly I mean rather slowly) moved as fast as I could by her (I may have actually managed to pull out .0001 mph on that exchange). There I am thinking, SUGAR! Howd' she know to look for me?? Is there some kind of sign announcing the side show attraction that is a fat man attempting to exercise? If not today, she'll tell her friends. The next thing I know, they'll be hundreds of "spectators" watching me run like a spectator sport. Except this will be like that show, Ninja Warrior, on television where the people fall off of impossibly hard obstacle courses; they will be there to laugh at me; not to root me on.


Suffice it to say, I booked it out of there as fast as my feet could carry me (roughly .05mph). I would be lucky if that were the end of it, but it wasn't.

Freaked out more than usual, I took to running in the shadows of the street, hoping to avoid any possible detection. Little did I know that running in the shadows actually meant setting of more and more motion detector lights so I was lit up like a Christmas decoration. I had a choice, stick to the shadows which get flooded with light every few seconds or run in the middle of the street where you just look like a dark shadow descending on your victims.(Yes, I know there are no victims in this story, but can't you let a fat man have some fun?).

Well, then a moth the size of a small humming bird started circling me. I was running and it was doing laps of my body. Maybe it thought it found a small building to exercise around and being a fat moth itself it was lazy and didn't want to go around one of these big 'ol buildings and chose me instead. I mean, c'mon, am I so big that I have my own gravitational field pulling in moths to orbit me as I run.

Finally, I stopped and it flew away. I'm pretty sure that it had to struggle to break free from orbit. But still I lost my second spotter of the night. If it had just been the moth, I might not have been so worried, but because I saw my neighbor and now the moth, I was starting to freak out.

I now ran down the middle of the street, no moths, no neighbors, and was ready to "enjoy" (if someone can enjoy the arduous task of forcing themselves to move one leg in front of the other for some kind of quasi-therapeutic and healthy activity) the rest of my run. When, out of nowhere I spotted it! Another fat man running! Can you believe it?!?!? Do you think he read my first entry and decided that running in the cover of darkness would save him from the embarrassment of being sighted? I don't know, but I can tell you it must have been a funny sight to see from the outside.

Here I am, running down the street at mach -1 (yeah, I wish) and here he is running from a different direction as slow as molasses. From the outside it must have looked like two tectonic plates getting ready to crash and cause a tsunami. Or it must have looked like two stationary objects somehow getting closer. Or maybe it looked even better. Maybe, it looked like two giant planets being attracted to the gravity field of another. Either way, all I know is he stopped, bug-eyed and gaped, like he's never seen another fat man. Maybe it was the outfit, I don't know. All I know is I ran faster (0.06 mph) to get away.

I don't know if you've tried to run faster once you're already running. It's not like a car where you step on the gas and BOOM you're going faster. It's like being in a rowboat, you need to really throw yourself into what you're doing to get that extra burst of speed.

At this point I was starting to freak out. What was this? Is there a conspiracy to see me run? Is it that entertaining?  I hope not because I plan to do it for the next few days.

Quick running tip. The night before a run don't eat:
1) A giant chicken sandwich
2) 2 peanut butter and honey sandwiches
3) 2 bowls of chilly
4) a glass of almond milk

For whatever reason this slowed me down.

I know what you're thinking, how could anything slow you down? Well, that's a great point. Alternatively, you may be thinking, "what's this guy's definition of slow?" To that I respond, another good point. I don't know what it was last night. I was hungry. All right.



I came home yesterday with a monster food-induced headache. This "trying to watch what I eat" is not a good idea. My body rebelled and I needed to quell the pain. So I tried to be healthy. What's better for you than chilly (uh, nothing!). And c'mon honey is a natural sweetener, nothing wrong there, right?!?

All right, I know, but at least I ran today! That must count for something!



No. All right then, today I'll see if I can stay away from any excess eating in favor of smaller portions and a better life.

Trial # 3: Avoid Detection Fat Man.
Mission Status: Failed.

Trial # 2: Don't Eat The House

Run once( ever). Check.




I think I should be more clear. Running implies actually running. I would say that this activity involved more of a placing one leg in front of the other in a somewhat rapid succession.

This is probably the best indication of what I look like when I run. And NO I'm not wearing a snow jacket or backpack. I just tend to bulge out a little, all right? Backup...

 I know that this was not running because I saw an actual person running while walking to work today (and by walking I mean leaving the parking lot and entering my building). It was some young 20-year-old stud without a shirt doing sprints up and down the street. Can you imagine, someone who actually likes doing it for fun.

And, I should mention, this is somewhat hypocritical because, let's be honest, if I were to take my shirt off and run around people would not be happy!

This brings me to my next point, avoiding ridicule and laughter while running! I discovered the secret to not being seen and ridiculed for my "running." I decided that if I was going to "run" it would be best to do it while it's completely dark outside. That way anyone who actually sees me will just think it's a really large cloud passing overhead causing a large shadow and everyone can avoid embarrassment.

So, "running," check. Now what do I do with the rest of my day?

I guess the next big challenge is not immediately eating something that was bad for me. I went with a sensible breakfast of all bran and almond milk. I figured it would be smart to eat as healthy as possible. Anyway, that was the best part. I then did work all day.



When I got to the evening, that's where problems started. Not only was I ravenously hungry but I happened to have a freezer full of packages of chicken nuggets. Mmmm. Well, I had to get rid of them if I was going to be eating healthier.

Well, I cooked those two packages up quick and felt full again finally. But seriously, one day into this quest and already I'm eating packages of chicken nuggets? C'mon now, that's just not cool.




Oh well, I guess it's back to the drawing board. I will be getting up in the morning to run! That should help (haha).


Trial # 2: Don't Eat The House
Mission Status: Failed

Trial #1: Fat Man Run

If you're like me then running is not something you do for pleasure. In fact, it's probably only something you do for two reasons: 1) to get away from someone who is chasing you, or 2) you were walking down a very steep hill and gravity just forced you into running.

For the last week or so I've been getting into my bed at night, finishing off a grilled-cheese sandwich and a tall glass of almond milk (see, I'm a healthy eater) and making myself a promise: tomorrow I will run in the morning! However, every morning it's the same thing. First, my alarm goes off. I turn it off and walk to the window. Second, I look outside and think, "Gosh, it's (insert anything that would be off-putting) outside, I should probably not run today. Third, I get back into bed thinking how I would have run if it just hadn't been so darn _____ (insert whatever it was that made me not want to run in the first place). The excuse that's made me realize that I was just avoiding exercise was, "Gosh, it's really big outside, I probably shouldn't run today."

 No they didn't look like this! 

I obviously wasn't helping my cause. So, I started getting prepared to run on that inevitable day when it wasn't hot, cold, humid, muggy, light, dark, or big outside.  First, I got a pair of sneakers out and put them near the door. I figured, this way, they'd be there when I need to run. Then, I charged my ipod, so I would be able to listen to music while I ran (this is what people do when they run, right??).

Finally, last night, I made what was possibly the critical step: I got my running shorts out.


Now, I don't want you to picture that I had shorts that were specially designed for running with breathable fabric or anything like that. No, they were just the only pair of "working out" shorts I owned. It looked like running was about to become a reality.

They may have looked a little more like this (not really!)

Thus, this morning when I woke up, I made a decision. I walked to the bathroom instead of the window. In the bathroom I found my shorts, which I put on. Then, I walked to the kitchen to get some water. Guess, what, my shoes were staring at me. I put those on, grabbed my ipod and I was ready for an EPIC run!

Then I got outside.



I have to say, I love the early morning chill. It's usually beautiful and I do enjoy the fact that it's so quiet in the morning. So, I left my apartment and began jogging. I don't know about you, but because I've never run before I had no idea what it would feel like. It started off well. My hands were pumping by my side, my music was going, and my feet were churning. I felt like I was the fastest man in the world.

I'm going to generalize from my very limited experience and say that whenever you start running (or whever you start running again after a long time) the first few seconds feel awesome!

 I was like, "This is awesome! I can do this for hours! Bring on the Run!!!"

Then, I hit my wall. Apparently, the wall is something that marathon runners hit at some very large number of miles in which they just can't run anymore. I hit mine within the first 5 minutes.

No longer did I feel like I was flying, instead I felt like I was wading through jello. My breathing was heavy, my legs hurt, and I wondered what that burning sensation was in my chest. "Who does this for fun?!?!?" I would have screamed but it was 6:30 in the morning and I figured someone would be pissed. Plus, I didn't exactly have air in my lungs. Anyway, I ran for about 10 minutes. During that time, the blood seemed to rush to my mouth, my mouth filled with saliva, and my head was spinning.

I ran until I literally couldn't run anymore. Sad, I know, but I tried. Anyway, I walked up my steps and sat down on my bed. Now I know what it's like to be a fat man and try to run. It was not a pleasant experience. Conventional wisdom would seem to indicate that the more you run, the more your body will get used to it. But after the first time this was not fun.

I literally felt parts of my body that I've never felt before. I can honestly tell you, too, that they did not feel right. I know it's possible to pull a muscle, but is it possible to pull a stomach? Ugh, I felt terrible. I thought, running was supposed to make you feel good. I actually had to lay down on my bed for a little bit before I could move again.





I finally recovered took a shower and felt confident about myself. Maybe I'll actually stick this thing out. I mean can you imagine, maybe one day I can look like this:

or if not that, then at least this:

(Is it bad that I aspire to be moderately chubby?) Either way, I'm gonna look good.

I will say one more thing, it is not easy to get skinny. I'll keep working on it and let you know how it goes.

My Trials as a Fat Man

I've never truly embraced the concept of being a walking stereotype. I'm a fat American.

There, I said it. I've never before had the guts to say that I'm a fat man. I've always used excuses to console myself: "I've just put on a few pounds," "Life is very stressful right now," "I'm having a baby" (oh wait that's not true), "I'm big boned." If you've heard it, then I've said it.

Today, I finally admit it:  I am fat.

It's true, not all Americans are fat, but we are the fattest nation in the world. Now I'm a statistic and it doesn't feel good. I don't like that I can't walk somewhere without breaking out into a sweat. I don't like that when I lay down flat on my back, I can rest something (a book, computer, a cup of soup) on my stomach and it will be at eye level. It's not okay. Here is the sad reality, it's not okay to be fat. Whenever someone else sees a fat person they look at them and scoff. They immediately think to themselves, "hey fatty, lay off the food," or something equally offensive.

I would say people underestimate how hard it is to be fat, but then I check myself and realize that at times it is easier to be fat than to try to get skinny.  I don't make an overwhelming effort to exercise (even though I have in the past), I don't make a tremendous effort to eat right (even though I have in the past), and I sure don't apply for elective surgery to correct my mistakes (even though I have NOT in the past).

But I'm tired of fat. I'm tired of the looks. I'm tired of the clothes that don't fit right. I'm tired of chaffing in weird places. I'm tired of looking at the mirror and being embarrassed for myself. I'm tired of breathing heavy and carrying around a giant belly.  I'm tired of keeping myself locked away like some kind of recluse because I'm embarrassed to be around other people. I'm tired of being fat.

So, I'm going to do what all fat people do at least once a day. I'm going to commit to not being fat. The reason it's okay to make fun of fat people is because all people who are not fat think it's some kind of choice not to be fat. In some ways it is. However, they think of the choice as being like a light switch. To turn on or off a light switch requires no real effort. To go from being fat to being skinny, however, is like  going to medical school. It requires diligent hours of study, commitment, and hard work.

It is here where I will document my trials in an attempt to go from this:

to this:

but, I will be okay with this:

So, please join me in the my trials, tribulations, and explorations as I move forward.