Hey Fat Girl!

For the most part, runners are a community of people who are extremely supportive of one another. I think we have all experienced that feeling of pushing ourselves to the absolute limit and so we highly respect other people when we see them doing the same thing. No matter their size, age or abilities. I guess the difference is when you are the "fat girl" and have just started your journey, you don't understand how hard running is...for everyone. It is ALWAYS hard! Not just for the "fat girl" but for anyone who is really striving to improve. This is not my writing. It's an excerpt from a friend's blog, but I find it extremely motivational and thought maybe a lot of others would, too. I had a huge lump in my throat and tears in my eyes as I read it, because I remember very, very well the mixed bag of emotions (pride, humiliation, joy, sadness, despair, hope, etc.) that I felt in every single session of my first round of couch to 5k. So, read this and know that I am not calling anybody out or making fun of anyone. I WAS the fat girl!

Hey Fat Girl ...

Yes, you. The one feigning to not see me when we cross paths on the running track. The one not even wearing sports gear, breathing heavy. You’re slow, you breathe hard and your efforts at moving forward make you cringe.

You cling shyly to the furthest corridor, sometimes making larger loops on the gravel ring by the track just so you’re not on it. You sweat so much that your hair is all wet. You rarely stay for more than 20 minutes at a time, and you look exhausted when you leave to go back home. You never talk to anyone. I’ve got something I’d like to say to you.

You are awesome!!

If you’d look me in the eye only for an instant, you would notice the reverence and respect I have for you. The adventure you have started is tremendous; it leads to a better health, to renewed confidence and to a brand new kind of freedom. The gifts you will receive from running will far exceed the gigantic effort it takes you to show up here, to face your fears and to bravely set yourself in motion, in front of others.

You have already begun your transformation. You no longer accept this physical state of numbness and passivity. You have taken a difficult decision, but one that holds so much promise. Every hard breath you take is actually a tad easier than the one before, and every step is ever so slightly lighter. Each push forward leaves the former person you were in your wake, creating room for an improved version, one that is stronger, healthier and forward-looking, one who knows that anything is possible.

You’re a hero to me. And, if you’d take off the blaring headphones and put your head up for more than a second or two, you would notice that the other runners you cross, the ones that probably make you feel so inadequate, stare in awe at your determination. They, of all people, know best where you are coming from. They heard the resolutions of so many others, who vowed to pick up running and improve their health, “starting next week”. Yet, it is YOU who runs alongside, who digs from deep inside to find the strength to come here, and to come back again.

You are a runner, and no one can take that away from you. You are relentlessly moving forward. You are stronger than even you think, and you are about to be amazed by what you can do. One day, very soon, maybe tomorrow, you’ll step outside and marvel at your capabilities. You will not believe your own body, you will realize that you can do this. And a new horizon will open up for you. You are a true inspiration.

I bow to you.