There’s this guy in my neighborhood. He walks all the time. I’ve seen him for years, moving down the sidewalk, huffing and puffing. He’s very fat, you see. Maybe every year he’s a little bit smaller, but not much. I can tell he’s working very hard, and I’m sure you know what I’d like to say to that guy. I’d like to stick my head out my car window, wave at him, and shout, “Keep up the good work!” But I won’t, and you shouldn’t either.
At the gym, I’ve been trying some new stuff, like boxing and spin and Aqua Fit with different instructors. I’m trying these things partly to see if I like them, and if I can be good at them. But mostly I’m doing them because I can’t do the one thing I love best: distance walking. It’s been pretty good. I love Aqua Fit (the harder, the better!), and I like the boxing quite a bit as a stress release, but spin isn’t my favorite. Not only does it still make my butt hurt, but it also tends to aggravate my ankle injury from last fall.
How I feel about spin, summed up in one photo.
Anyway, in trying new things, I’m also spending time around new people. And those people have been great! I always love meeting people, and I’ve met some fantastic ones. From fellow students to instructors, they have been kind and supportive and encouraging. But. (Of course there’s a but.)
When someone says, “Great job!” or “Keep up the good work!” or “You’re doing great!”, do you know what I always hear tacked on to the end of those exclamations? “… for a fat person.”
It makes me want to punch things. Including my own brain.
Last summer when I was training with Gilda’s Gang, I was walking with another coach along the canal. We were almost at the end of the distance we needed to cover that day when I decided to sprint walk to the finish, because I like to see if my fellow coach (a runner) can keep up with me (he has to run to do it!). And we were dashing past this woman who was setting up a little information booth. She looked up as we went by, made eye contact with me, and shouted, “You go, girl!”
At first I was thrilled to be acknowledged for my hard work and effort. But then my heart sank. Because she didn’t say it to my thinner and more fit-looking fellow coach. She hadn’t shouted anything to any of the thin runners who’d gone by before us. She shouted at me, the fat woman. I’m sure she meant well. Of course! She wasn’t mocking me. She sincerely wanted to let me know that she thought I was doing something impressive. But.
Would you be as encouraging to these runners
as you would to the back-of-the pack folks?
It boils down to this: I don’t want you to cheer me on because I’m fat and exercising. Your words of encouragement aren’t going to make me keep going, or make me get up and do it the next day. I don’t need that support. It feels condescending – especially when it comes from a thin person. If you are sincerely encouraging me because of my effort and not my effort because of my size, then that’s great. But I don’t know if you are. Do you know if you are?
Now that the weather is finally turning nice here in Rochester, I’m sure I’ll see that fat guy walking in the neighborhood again. And, as with every year, I will refrain from shouting words of encouragement at him. The fact that I even have encouraging thoughts about him upsets me, because I don’t think the same thing when I see a thin person moving down the same sidewalk. See, it happens to me, too.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad that my fellow boxers, spinners, and Aqua Fitters are glad I’m there, working hard next to them. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate their support and encouragement. I just don’t want that support and encouragement to be given to me because I look different than them, because they assume it’s harder for me because of my size.
Please feel free to shout these words at me any time you like.
Bottom line? If you wouldn’t say the exact same thing to a thin person doing the exact same thing, don’t say it. Just don’t. Chances are about 150 percent that the fat person working out beside you knows that they stick out in the crowd, and you calling attention to how hard they are working is not motivating. It’s singling them out, drawing attention to them because of the size and shape of their body – and fat people get enough of that on a daily basis. Sounds counter-intuitive, but remember: Not all encouragement is encouraging.
