Calling fat people ‘fat’ and a successful 10 miles

I’m not one to follow celebrity gossip (that is a complete lie, I read gossip magazines on the elliptical at the gym cover to cover – don’t judge me), but I occasionally read about celebrity spats, and with all this social media stuff, it’s easy to follow along and watch all these fancy shmantzy people act like complete tools.  Recently?  Lady Gaga (who kind of infuriates me, but who also makes very catchy music) wrote an ‘open letter’ to Kelly Osbourne (who irritates me slightly less, and who has a father that made good music and took way too many drugs) shitting on her for her presenting job on some trashy fashion show, and saying that she’s so bummed that she feels it is “culturally important to note that [she] have chosen a less compassionate path” in life.  Than Lady Gaga.  Who clearly thinks she’s Mother Theresa now.

Anyway, she’s basically saying that as a former fat chick, Kelly should be aware of how hurtful her comments on appearance might be, and by making fun of the appearances of others on a fashion show, she’s saying it’s OK to make fun of people based on their appearance.

Being a former porker, I have been on the receiving end of some pretty vicious comments about my size.  Having my own grandmother tell me I should spend 30 minutes on an exercise bike instead of 30 minutes baking brownies was one that I remember, but amongst the tamer jabs.  I also remember coming across some graffiti on the ‘graffiti wall’ at work one night and feeling pretty bad.  The ‘graffiti wall’ was in a staff only area where spare chairs were kept for functions, and it was usually reserved for graphic drawings of vaginas and tits, and lists of the ‘most shaggable’ staff.  I never featured.  Except for a tiny section in the corner where someone had scribbled Rachel is a fat, ugly goth.  Next to that, there were further comments from more of my colleagues about the various levels of damage they might incur by sleeping with me (crushed to death, lost in the vast sea of fat, flattened, eaten after the act).  They were  extremely creative, so I have to give them some recognition for that, but it did not make for comfortable reading.

Nobody wanted to have sex with this.

Nobody wanted to have sex with this.

Still, seeing and hearing things like this was good for me.  Sure, I’d feel pretty unhappy about my appearance, and frustrated that at what I had allowed myself to become, but it also made me determined to do something about it, and realize that I was not ‘cute-chubby’, but ‘full-on-fat-ass’.  One day I woke up, found some ‘work out clothes’, and walked to the nearest gym.  It took about 20 minutes, and several patronizing ‘I’m sure this will change your life’ smiles to join, and then I used the elliptical machine for 45 minutes.  I went back the next day.  And the next.  And then kept going.

About a year, and 80lbs. later, I could honestly say that I was glad I was bullied when I was overweight.  Yes, at the time it was hurtful, but if I hadn’t been, then I could have gone through the rest of my 20’s without being concerned about my weight, and if I hadn’t turned things around, who knows where I could have ended up?

"It's OK, I'm drinking Diet Coke."

“It’s OK, I’m drinking Diet Coke.”

Now I want to make it clear that I am no more a Kelly fan than I am a Lady Gaga fan, although I would like to say ‘Bravo!’ to Kelly for turning into a functioning human with two bat-shit (ha) crazy parents, but I guess I don’t really see the big deal about poking fun of people, especially in a cheesy fashion show that probably has less significance in the world than my last shit.

I also do not live in Gaga’s crazy world of sparkles, and unicorns, and raining candy, and frilly dresses, and ‘art’ (this subject alone is enough to prompt a 10,000 word rant from me, so I’m just going to move along quickly), and rainbows, and calling a hand a paw, and supporting LGBT issues because it’s apparently edgy just now, and apparel made of meat, etc.  The idea that ‘everyone should just be nice to each other’ is achievable, MAYBE, in a nursery with like 5 kids who get along, but I just cannot believe all people are capable of being nice all the time.  Unless they fake it.  But that’s even creepier and doesn’t really count.

I guess what I’m saying is that while I agree with Lady Gaga in as much as I think any TV show on E! is trash, I think she’s being completely unrealistic about her hopes for a super happy future for mankind, and I also think it’s kind of ‘LOOKATME’ for picking on someone for such a non-issue.  She also comes across as a bit of a douche for being all preachy and shit.

I’m also saying that sometimes bullying sparks positive change – it all depends on how you react to it.  If you have a friend/relative/colleague who is unhealthily fat, tell them.  To me, that’s nicer than telling them they look fabulous while Type 2 diabetes destroys their insides, and their arteries clog up with each extra doughnut they shovel down their throat.  Oh, and never tell them that mini skirts are for everyone.  They’re just not.

In other, less chunky news, I managed my 10.5 mile ‘long’ run today, followed by an hour of Body Balance, which is a class that is a mixture of yoga, thai chi, and pilates.  It’s a good way to stretch after running, so my plan is to try and time my long runs to end just before the class on Sundays I’m not racing.  While the weather was not ‘partly sunny’ this morning, but spitting cold rain, and windy, but I’m happy to report no tornadoes.  Also, no severe calf pain!  I can’t say I was too enthused at giving up my long lie though:

Ready to head outside.

Ready to head outside.