Get Out of the Road, Fatty!

Countdown to the Half:
Day 6:

Clearly, I have underestimated the amount of hills and lack of actual sidewalks there are in the little town in which I work. The plan was to get off work at 6pm, change clothes, and do a quick 4 mile out and back (and by quick I mean less than an hour of running.) When I started it was daylight and my choice of black spandex running tights and a black shirt was just fine (for running in at least, but it's quite possible that the viewing pleasure of others was slightly disturbed.) Unfortunately, as my mileage increased so did the darkness and my choice of attire was obviously not wise. Sometimes I forget that I live and work in the mountains and when the sun decides to go down for the night, it goes down very quickly, and it gets very dark.

You can't really tell from this pic...but those are HILLS!

I ran past all the outdoor patio eateries that we happen to have here, which is an ungodly amount for some reason, and they smell fucking delicious! Obviously the people stuffing their faces were extremely jealous of my excellent running form because they all stared at me with their mouths open and the fork frozen in place half way to their face. I seriously contemplated stealing a french fry from a few plates as I ran past...it wasn't like they needed to eat it nor would they get up and chase me.

There were a few times I was forced preferred to run in the road due to some snow stubbornly remaining in the shady parts of the sidewalk or a lack of sidewalk at all. The road I chose to run on is a main thoroughfare and I had to watch out for the people who always obey the laws and do the speed limit shitty fucking drivers.

I, of course, had my head phones in and my music blaring because I am a dissociative runner (it's a thing, I promise, look it up) and I must have distractions. I start to make my way up one of the many steep and steady hills toward the cute little town and suddenly, out of no where, I start hearing horns honking and cars start flashing their lights at me. I proceed to get so excited that I wave to each vehicle with a gigantic smile on my face and my arms flailing about as if I just won a million dollars. I think to myself, "wow, this town is just great, look how supportive they are of FBG runners!"

After a few moments I began to wonder if they were really encouraging me or just saying, "get out of the road, fatty!"

Shame is Not Motivation

I came across a post on my timeline for Facebook yesterday that got my blood pressure to top out more than a good workout!

There is a man who is secretly filming the overweight and elderly residents of my gentle little town and making mean and hurtful comments on the videos about them. You do not see his face, you just hear his hateful troll of a voice the entire time. Instead of talking to these people, he hides behind trees and bushes and as he films he berates these poor people behind their backs and hides behind his camera. While there are plenty of moral and medical reasons as to why this would inappropriate to the large people of my town there is also the fact that he isn't doing anything to help them about their weight or motivating them to do anything about it either.

Motivation does not come from shame. Ever.

As an FBG, and a resident of the county he is secretly filming I am so frustrated that he is walking my streets. He mentions in one of his videos that he does a Navy SEAL workout. I highly doubt this. Most likely he found something online that incorporates the same exercises we can all do and it was labeled a SEAL workout. As a Navy Sailor myself this infuriated me.

I posted a comment to his youtube videos which received no response from him. I also sent him a message on Facebook (listed below, in full force so excuse the language used) which has received no response as well.

This man is attempting to open a fitness center in my humble little town. I implore my readers to flag his videos and ask that they be taken down. I also ask that you never, ever, visit any of his listed websites. Normally I would NEVER bring attention to something like this so as not to garner him more satisfaction. Unfortunately, it affects the people of my town, my friends, and my family. I cannot allow this to continue and I ask that you, my readers please help me get his videos taken down. Sign in to youtube and go here to get the list of his videos. Feel free to leave a comment on his videos too. The ones labeled "Obesity Reigns in Macon County 1" all the way through 6 need to be flagged.

"As a former US Navy Sailor, you sir are a cunt. I'm a fat girl of Macon County and I've been working my ass off to lose my weight. In doing so I've motivated several others to join me. THAT is how you get others to join you, to be healthy, to run. What you have done is wrong and bordering on pedophilia. What makes you so fucking special? Sounds to me like you are a fat guy yourself. Perhaps you should join ME on my two a day workouts and see how you feel. You are scum. Take your sick videos down, stop filming people, and motivate people in other ways. I could bring my actual Navy SEAL buddies to one of your workouts if you wish and we can see if you can hang with them? Except they wouldn't ridicule you, make fun of you, film you at your most vulnerable, for not being able to finish their daily routine. Be a man."

UPDATE: I did receive a response to the youtube post.

"I just wanted to let you know that I am shooting these videos as ABC news has expressed interest in doing a story on OBESITY here. I am formerly of CBS news. We are only using the numbers shared with your OWN health department they showed us that speaks the FACTS."

UPDATE #2 (My response):

"While they may be the FACTS as you so state. The way you have gone about belittling this town, this community, is ridiculous! I have seen more tasteful stories done on obesity from the news before, what you are doing is just flat wrong. Your statements on these videos are derived from a place of hate instead of compassion. I could care less your affiliations within the news community. You're a pompous ass that thinks he is better than everyone else. I have three kids, workout twice a day, go to school full time, and work full time. I don't run on the greenway because my job has it's own gym in the building. I'm still a fat girl and my excuses are my own and none of your business. Motivation can never come from shame!"

Update #3:

Congratulations! He took down his videos from youtube. Great job guys. Great job.

What I Learned

This morning was the first morning that I was able to use my employer’s new gym. I asked the husband if he would like to come with me. I didn’t want to go alone and he didn’t have any idea the last time he stepped on a scale. We hopped in the car around seven am and made the short trip into town. Once we got there, he hopped on the bike while I put my ass on the elliptical. Then I figured out how to use it and put my feet on it instead.

After ten minutes of the recommended level ten setting, I moved it down to level eight for the last twenty minutes as my military suggested workout told me to. According to Navy standards, I am to increase the levels not the time if it gets easy. I don’t see that happening any time soon.

At my twenty-minute time, the husband decided he wanted to go lift weights instead of keeping up with the cardio on the bike. Five minutes later he was done, five minutes after that my legs were jell-o and I was ready to go home. I did a cool down and left, but here is what I learned during my two completely military standard workouts.

I learned that I can complete fifty push-ups but I cannot seem to do it without bitching. I learned that I can run two miles without bitching (because I can’t breathe enough to do so.) I learned that the elliptical is a gift from the devil incarnate. I learned that I have muscles that haven’t been used in over twelve years. Most importantly, I learned that I can complete an entire workout (unlike my loving husband.)

First Things First

If you walk into the office at any time of the day, I can almost promise you that someone, somewhere, is shoveling food into his or her face. The smells waft from our break room like french-fries in a hot car. Sometimes I am able to figure out what the smell is but usually it just smells like rancid garbage.

Our small space is filled to the brim with cubicles and there is a warm body in each little cubby. Steadily they force feed themselves into morbid obesity (so did I.) At this time of year most of us are working 54 hour work weeks with only Sunday off. That doesn’t leave much time for making healthy meals and working out (some barely have enough time to shower regularly.) Most of us have fast food burgers and fries on a daily basis that contributes to the cholesterol overload in the body. We look like a cattle farm; all of us cows shoved into our own small space grinding away on our oats while the bosses fatten us up for the slaughter.

Sick of the same routine of eat, sleep, eat, work, eat, college, eat, work, eat. I approached my co-workers with the prospect of losing weight and working out. I was excited to share with them my newfound health inspiration. I was not as well received as I had hoped. They looked at me as if I had just taken away their last meal. It was that moment when that I reached down to take the dinner plate away from a hungry puppy that I lost my arm.

“Are you calling me fat?” was one response. Well, yes actually. I am calling you fat. I would not have asked you to come with me if you were one of the few who have been blessed with the skinny gene. So get off your high horse (lazy boy, couch, whatever else you use to sit on) and let’s take a walk.

Looks like I am on my own this time. Won’t they be amazed when 6 months from now, I will be at my goal weight, and they will still be chewing their cud in the cubicles. 

Amat Obesus Puella

Amat Obesus Puella means "The Fat Girl" in Latin, hence my name Puella Obesus "Girl Fat." No I don't speak Latin (idiot, no one speaks Latin.) If you're wondering who in the heck would name their child Puella Obesus...Stop reading this blog. Seriously. No one would name their child this hideous name (although Sage Moonblood and Apple are cutting it close!) (For all you Latin scholars out there I do realize that this may be grammatically incorrect. With that said, don't go correcting it. Google only allows so many name changes.)

That's me. The fat girl. Yeah, the one in the middle...what do you mean you can't tell? Clearly the other two skinny biotches on either side of me makes it easier?

I would normally say I'm proud of what I look like. Bigger is better, and all that jazz, but recently my five year old daughter has been able to out run me when we're headed for the cookie jar. This heinous act must be remedied! Not only is the little cookie thief small enough to fit through a key hole, she's as fast as a cheetah! A simple explanation of, "mommy made those cookies for herself," just doesn't seem to work with her. Her reply is generally something along the lines of, "catch me if you can fatty mommy!"

In case you haven't noticed, this blog is intended to be a humorous, rude, obnoxious, and sometimes down right dirty, journey of weight loss and lifestyle changes. If you are easily offended you have my permission to stop reading right now and browse to another blog or website that will adhere to your sensitive sensibilities.