What it's like to be fat

I've been thinking about the state of being fat a lot lately. It started with a re-consideration of the title of my blog - Fat Girl to Triathlete. I think it's pretty clear at this point that I am a triathlete, and I'm not a fat girl. My transition is over.

But even though I'm pretty comfortable now with the idea that I'm not fat (which isn't to say I don't have fat, but that if someone were to describe me, they probably wouldn't say that I was a little heavy or chunky or rubenesque or any other allegedly kinder word that really just means fat), I'm not sure I'm ever going to get over having been fat.

Here's what I remember.

Shopping was painful. I would pick up some article of clothing, usually pants, and think it would be big or at least fit. I'd take it into the dressing room, put it on, and be shocked. Are my legs really that fat? Is my muffin top really that large? If this is a size 14, what size do I really wear? Where should I shop?

Eventually I compensated by buying only men's jeans. Length and waist width are more concrete than 12-14-16-18, but since I didn't know how to translate width into women's sizes, but I sure could translate 14 to "fat" it worked better for me. In case you're wondering, 36x30 before I had my second child; then even those didn't fit and I wore mostly size XL women's skirts (ankle-length, of course).

Going out was difficult. I had to drink a lot so that I could dance, laugh, and enjoy my friends - it took a lot of alcohol to lower my reserve and prevent me from trying to hide in the corner. Here's a picture from that time (yeah, that's me on the left). REALLY unattractive. Oh, one other thing - I had to wear that ugly dress because I felt like I looked so awful in cute pants and tank tops - which is what all the other girls wore that night.

And even earlier in my life (and this part is hard to admit given my feelings on the subject NOW, as a Christian and a parent), I compensated for my lack of self-esteem by becoming sexually active earlier than the rest of my friends, drinking alcohol earlier (and more often!) and pretty much being a punk. If there was something to do that my friends would think was cool and my parents would think was horrible - like, skip school, sneak out my bedroom window, ride in cars with teenage boys - I did it. I was pretty fortunate that I was the worst-behaved of my friends, though, since it limited my access to alcohol, drugs, cigarettes and really bad people who could have messed up my life. (As it is, I think there's little long-term effects from my poor behavior, for which I thank God often.)

When I traveled on public transportation, I had to take care that I fit all of me into my seat. I wasn't so big I needed a second, but I would try to shrink into my seat.

I had a boyfriend once who threatened breaking up with me because I couldn't keep up with him when we went hiking. Another time, I hiked up the back of Half Dome in Yosemite with my friends, but I brought books to read in the car in case I needed to turn back before we got to the top. (I didn't...but wow, it hurt!)

People treat you differently when you're fat. I don't think I really knew it at the time, though I sort of thought it. However, it was complicated by the fact that I felt so awkward in my own skin. But now I have experienced it.

Like the first time (really, only two years ago) when I walked by a man and watched as he looked at my chest. That never happened before. And when my husband's friends make comments about his hot wife. (Huh? What hot wife? It's pretty jarring for him, too, since he didn't marry the hot chick.)

Plus, you think of yourself differently. I didn't have to do anything to get new self-confidence; actually, I didn't even know I had changed. But friends who knew me before tell me I have.

And there are cool experiences: like the first time I picked up a few articles of clothing, brought them into the dressing room, and found that they were too big - like, 2 or 3 sizes too big.

However, as much as I know what sizes I wear now and have gotten comfortable in this body, I do always feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff and I could slip off at any moment. One ice cream, one brownie, one greasy fried food could push me over the edge.

Or one day of not exercising when I intended to - that could turn into two or three or weeks.

You think I'm being dramatic? I don't. I watched as a male co-worker today ate a burrito (1,000 calories), two big cookies (500 calories) and an ice-cream sundae (400 calories - it wasn't huge). Plus breakfast (usually he has a chocolate muffin and a coke) and who knows what for dinner - plus beer, because it's Friday at Microsoft and we drink beer. (We meaning not me.) I could do that, too. I've got the capacity. But if I did, I'd gain a pound every two days or so. Oh, and that guy is not fat.

So I'm driven to maintain where I am, or possibly improve. I threw away ALL of my fat clothes (and honestly, I had saved quite a bit - it was only about a month ago that I finally got rid of the rest). I found a ton of friends with whom I exercise and discuss food issues - so we keep each other as on track as possible.

And fortunately, I haven't yet forgotten how it felt to be fat. I hope I never do. So the blog title stays - and still makes sense as I continue in my weight-maintenance struggles and work on becoming a better athlete.