A few years back (approximately 10 or so) I ran 3 miles a day. I was trying to get the baby weight off, along with the lingering depression I suffered as a stay-at-home mom. I was about the weight I am now, only now I am much more fit cardiovascularly as well as muscularly.
One morning way back when after one of my three- milers, I walked the small patch of grass that connected the main road to my subdivision. It was something I always did to cool down. As I was walking a car drove by and a young man inside yelled out to me "Hey Fatty, you should be running, not walking!!"
I was shocked and pissed. Didn't he know I just ran three miles?!? More than I was devastated.
After that day, I just gave up. I stopped working out and over the course of the next few years I proceeded to gain more weight – topping off at over 200 pounds.
Looking back on it, I can't believe I gave that little shit that much power over me. To let his words define me and to just give up on something I truly enjoyed — running.
Well, I just got back from a run on that same stretch of road I ran nearly 10 years ago. I didn't run the whole thing, but when I did run my time was about 2 minutes faster than it was back then. It is unusally warm today and as I ran I felt lighter, happier and more in control of my health than I've ever been.
Just as I was walking that stretch of grass today, a car went by and a teenager rolled down his window to bark at me. I just laughed and flipped him off. He looked totally shocked at this old lady flipping him the bird.
It felt fantastic!