Lately I've been thinking about being fat and how that transformation happened while I wasn't paying any attention. Being fat is still a relatively unexplored country for me. I use to be thin. Scrawny, as a matter of fact.
I was the stereotypical 98-pound weakling for a good deal of my puberty. Right about the time of 17, I hit 120 pounds and stayed at that weight for over a decade. It was frustrating. No matter what I ate or what I did....my weight stayed a rock solid 120.
So I quit worrying about it. I ate whatever I wanted with the confidence that it would have no effect. I slowed down and pursued more sedentary activities with the thought that exercise would do nothing but make me sore. Then....little by little...year after year....calories and gravity started to do it's magic around my body's mid-section. Being nuevo fat as opposed to being a big guy in the first place, my fat is not distributed evenly. I'm not portly. I'm not chubby. I'm certainly not jolly about my body. I have a hanging gut that my frame is having difficulty supporting. The type of fat that I am actually hurts....and that pain holds me back in efforts to get back the body I dimly remember.
It truly sucks.