Despite the few extra curves I’ve carried around with me since early adulthood, I’ve never felt burdened by my weight. I’ve never been controlled, nor limited, by the three digits on the scale that vary by a pound or two depending on the time of month.
Which is why, instead of feeling disgust or objection at the sight of a 400-pound woman gimping out of Fuddrucker’s the other evening, I experienced heartache. Each cane-assisted footstep was painfully effortful because her jello-loaf calves were the size of a toddler. There was no evidence of ankles. If curled into a fetal position, I could have fit my entire body into the cavern of her belly. The folds of skin under her chin pulled her face into a permanent frown (or perhaps that was the result of the additional weight of people’s ridicule). Each breath was an ordeal. I couldn’t imagine what sort of damage would occur to a spirit to be caged in such an enormous, downtrodden physical space; unable to take a natural stride at will.
The extra five pounds of ‘relationship complacency’ that has deposited around my hipbones does not restrict my ability to run half marathons, ascend a flight of stairs two-at-a-time, lift heavy furniture, or even walk to my car from the entrance of a restaurant. It was the pitiable woman I observed struggling to function at the most basic of levels who served to remind me what the burden of obesity can do to one’s soul.
May I never let those five pounds turn into fifty. I just signed up for the Chicago half-marathon.
Which is why, instead of feeling disgust or objection at the sight of a 400-pound woman gimping out of Fuddrucker’s the other evening, I experienced heartache. Each cane-assisted footstep was painfully effortful because her jello-loaf calves were the size of a toddler. There was no evidence of ankles. If curled into a fetal position, I could have fit my entire body into the cavern of her belly. The folds of skin under her chin pulled her face into a permanent frown (or perhaps that was the result of the additional weight of people’s ridicule). Each breath was an ordeal. I couldn’t imagine what sort of damage would occur to a spirit to be caged in such an enormous, downtrodden physical space; unable to take a natural stride at will.
The extra five pounds of ‘relationship complacency’ that has deposited around my hipbones does not restrict my ability to run half marathons, ascend a flight of stairs two-at-a-time, lift heavy furniture, or even walk to my car from the entrance of a restaurant. It was the pitiable woman I observed struggling to function at the most basic of levels who served to remind me what the burden of obesity can do to one’s soul.
May I never let those five pounds turn into fifty. I just signed up for the Chicago half-marathon.
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