To the grim delight of my neighbors, I started jogging a few months ago.<\/p>\n
Let\u2019s get this out in the open. I am one of the Fat People. There is no sugar-coating it with euphemisms like chubby, portly, husky or stocky. No need to delve into the world of PC terms. I do not challenge gravity. I am not big-boned and I am not horizontally-enhanced.<\/p>\n
I am one of the Fat People.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Couch to 5K is one of several hundred running programs available on the Internet. It\u2019s a staged program of specifically timed sessions that increase in difficulty, thus increasing your stamina. In 9 weeks Fat Person should go from the couch to running 5K in 30 minutes. I was skeptical, mostly because the last time I had run was for a tram and I was in high heels (it was a strange night, don\u2019t judge). Furthermore, I have learned through several disappointing incidents not to trust things found on the Internet \u2013 so-called \u2018size\u2019 enhancers or \u2018lifelike\u2019 house companions.<\/p>\n
As one of the Fat People, I had to choose an appropriate jogging route. There were two choices. The first was a designated running path along the river, and a 5 minute walk from my flat. The problem is, well, places such as these often attract people. Fit People. The judgmental Fit People. And I was not among them. So, I chose the other locale; a cemetery 3 minutes up the hill from my flat. Cemeteries attract few people in the early morning and my morbid sense of civic duty deduced that when I keeled over from a heart attack, the EMTs could just drag me into the cemetery, steal my mp3 player and pour me in a grave. I had it all worked out.<\/p>\n
Three mornings a week I jogged in my private exile around the cemetery. However, in the back of my mind I knew that when the running intervals got longer I would have to join the Fit People along the river. It soon became evident how I was going to accomplish this goal.<\/p>\n
Music and Anger.<\/p>\n
The first couple weeks I could only focus on my own misery and begging. But in the third week a rude driver cut me off as I crossed the street to the cemetery and the residual fury gave me a bolt of adrenalin that worked as a steam engine to my sedentary caboose. Before I had settled down, my run was finished.<\/p>\n
I went home, drank coffee and decided to continue the experiment.<\/p>\n
The next time I ran, I actively focused on a fictional heated conversation with a colleague whose voice I detest – it\u2019s like an owl being kicked to death by a mule. The time after that, I had a grand conversation with my upstairs, salsa-dancing neighbor. I physically acted out the conversations, threatening and muttering, pointing fingers and emoting facial expressions. The only side effect was that everyone who saw me running thought I was a maniac. Fortunately, at 7 am at a cemetery, those people were dead or drunk or maniacs or dead-drunk maniacs, so I fit right in.<\/p>\n
Music was a necessary companion to my anger. Not angry music; no Rage Against the Machine or Cannibal Corpse. I have dramatized a blow out with my boss to Lionel Ritchie. I have decimated a lazy student to Paul Simon. I would simply visualize the person I wanted to lay into, set my pace to glacier and feel my heart rate rise dangerously.<\/p>\n
I suppose it\u2019s all about distraction and adrenalin.<\/p>\n
In week 6, I went down the hill to jog on the river path for the first time.<\/p>\n
While stretching, I sought my own kind \u2013 the Fat People. But there were none, I figured they were still stuck running around their cemeteries. I put on my Yo Yo Ma rage-jogging mix, locked into an aggressive conversation with my building manager and took off.<\/p>\n
I must begrudgingly admit that I didn\u2019t need the rage that morning. Not because of my enhanced physical condition, but it seemed that my body carried me on a wave of shock and disbelief that jogging remained a part of my morning routine.<\/p>\n
Also, the Fit People are prettier than my cemetery maniacs; they have teeth, visible abs and grooming habits. Rather than frighten them with my rabid antics, I tried to smile through the pain and feign casual belonging. I thought about puppies.<\/p>\n
Since then, I have been the sole ambassador of the Fat People among the Fit People of the river.<\/p>\n
As ambassador, I\u2019m going to suggest having a hot dog vendor along the path.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
To the grim delight of my neighbors, I started jogging a few months ago. Let\u2019s get this out in the open. I am one of the Fat People. There is no sugar-coating it with euphemisms like chubby, portly, husky or stocky. No need to delve into the world of PC terms. I do not challenge […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-78","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EvEu-1g","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=78"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1076,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78\/revisions\/1076"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=78"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=78"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=78"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}