The Fat Friend.

Today I ran and I swam.

I ran/jogged/meandered 3.1 miles, and at the end of I was not even that tired. I was sore, though, since I have ran everyday since Sunday. I didn't run straight through today, and stopped to stretch and walk often to work out a kink in my side (probably induced from the sudden 50 degree weather we were experiencing here in the great city of Athens today). Still, it was a nice feeling to finish out and not be entirely exhausted. The shins haven't been hurting til today, but even now after swimming and stretching they're fine. My bones and muscles are getting so much healthier... such a great feeling. Such a weird feeling. I then swam for about 45 minutes, and I could tell my stroke is getting a lot better. Exciting things all around!

In other news, a few days ago I got a text from a friend of mine who told me she wanted to get together so she could share with me something she'd been thinking about since reading my blog. I of course obliged, and today we met for some FroYo. She hardly wasted any time with small talk before beginning, "So... the reason I wanted to meet with you..." She went on to talk about her own struggle and journey with fitness and weight loss. She mentioned this show called I Used to Be Fat, which is on MTV, that showcases the journey of young people trying to change their lives and start anew, healthy. My friend talked about this show (which I've only heard of, never seen), and talked about how, while it's inspiring, it is not real life, which detracts from the effect.

"You're doing this on your own," she explained, "No personal trainer, no TV cameras in your face. And you're really doing it!" I was so, absolutely and totally, touched. I explained to her how much that meant to me to hear someone acknowledge what I'm going through. What a lonely road weight loss on your own can be.

Because really, there is no glory in the sweat and grime of the journey of weight loss. It's one of those things that almost always feels like 2 steps forward 1 step back. It's such a slow going. For someone to take notice really felt... incredible, honestly. We sat there for the next hour talking about our goals, dreams, and sharing common feelings and interests.

She brought up something that I've thought a lot about. The idea of being the "Fat Friend." I don't know if she really even talked about it a lot, or if something she said just triggered this mental rabbit trail, I don't rightly remember now. But the idea is this feeling that, if you've ever been (or are) overweight, you know it all too well.

When you're a girl, it's when you're shopping. It's when you're sharing changing rooms (a concept I still don't understand why high school girls were so fond of). When you go swimming. Prom. Gym class. Those are the obvious times when it's really friggin' noticeable. For me, I almost feel like a fraud listing prom, because I've always ridiculously dieted before prom to look fantastic. But still--buying a size 12 dress when my friend was in a size 6? I may not have looked massive, but I was still twice the size of my BFF. That does something to you mentally as a 16 year old.

I could go on about what it means to be that fat friend, but we already know what I'm talking about. For me, it's been about telling myself that's why I don't date a lot, or why I settled with somebody for so long that I never really felt infatuated with. I attribute my depression and loneliness to my size--which is sort of an absurd thing, but is actually pretty legitimate. Like I said on the phone with my dad tonight, "as I lose weight, it's just nice not to feel like the fat friend. If someone wants to run, or take a class at the gym, I can be like, 'hey, I can do that!' rather than be embarrassed that I wouldn't be able to keep up, or that I'd be the fat blob bouncing around feeling uncomfortable."

And ALLLLL of this to say... as I'm losing weight, I'm shedding the image of being the fat friend. Which suddenly... well it literally makes me feel light headed even thinking of it, of the idea of not being fat, being the token chubby girl... means that I won't have that identity.

So... who will I be? Who will I become?

The athlete? The artist? The loyal friend? The flirt? The smartie? The hippie?
The writer?

Sure, I may have been these things before--and maybe you never considered me your "Fat Friend."
But I did. I kinda still do. But with each strike of my running shoes on pavement, I'm leaving that behind.

Come with me.