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It’s Not Easy Being Fat

August 30, 2019

A dozen years ago I lost 1/3 of my mass. Since our wedding I zoftiged up to a precarious bulk. I did the math, and it was one extra Milano cookie a day, every day, for about 25 years.

I crushed the worst of the bloat in what is now called a “Keto” regime, but I knew and know as the “Stillman Diet” – a replay of my youth – water and meat only, and in full portions as desired, but nothing, zero, else, at all (save Eucharist 3 times a month).

Then a decade of fat creep, then a thrombic event, then a re-loss of 25%, but still about 30 pounds north of “should”, although I consume, at most, 2,500 calories a day, and, like I am doing now, kill at least 500 of those calories a day by working out at least 6.5 days a week for about 90 minutes a day, meaning I can maintain being a near Morbid BMI at about 1,800 calories a day, complete with a full-on muscle-mass burn (because I work out).

It is sad.

Last night, on Amtrak, I unvoidably was up close and personal with 2 women who were, simply, fat. Even fatter than me. They spoke energetically about the meals they were designing and were consuming. I was silently judgmental. Just as those who see my posterior and haunches and declare me to be a thoughtless glutton.

And I am, one meal a day. Dinner. One and done: “Episodic Fasting” unless I am just too beat, then and I have a raw 230 calorie bagel for “lunch”. And water.

At 64, I am bizarrely without health issues. I had one blood vessel with a bad middle layer. I have one cavity in my mouth (filled). Eyes that are so old that was once 20/40 is now about 20/30 on its way to needing reading glasses. My non-proctoscoped/mail-in intestine test sez I have no cancer there. (Or at least in the mail). And the other zillion thrombus-induced tests a couple of years ago declared me quite OK. With 2 blood pressure pills taken daily. And a statin.

Otherwise, no chronic anything. No shooting pain, loss of hearing. My heart rate is under 60 beats per minute. But I am 30 pounds above Not Fat.

And yet I judged those women – when I am them, just 30 years older. I just pulled myself out of my Very Fat Suit, and got into a Less Fat Suit. I am amazed at my Jackassery.

Unlike most cancers, much cardio and brain issues, what I do in life every day has no bad outcomes. 2 drinks 3 or 4 days a week, one slice of bacon a year, never smoked anything of any kind ever, I even dropped Triscuits because their fat trumped their ruffage.

But first sighting of me by others (and me) yet generates the “Fat” apprehension – as is reasonable. Since I have never had any compelling aesthetic, I shrug. I look in the mirror and faintly “ugh” and go onto the day.

But I judged those women (as I would males, BTW) – (I am an equal opportunity Fat Bigot).

But I will have a full dinner tonite.

As soon as I make up the hour cranking on my recumbent that I lost to an earlier start this AM.

Hypocritical, or simply the lazy self-loathing of we who underperform our righteousness?

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