Showing Off!

I’m not one given to showing off but damn I’m good!

Weighed myself last night after training before I started the 3 and a half mile trot home (I resent the hell out of paying for a bus or train for that measly a distance), and I’m now bang on 14 stone or for you foreign types out there, 196lbs whereas when I started training, I was 340lbs. I have become really quite broad across the shoulders and in old English, I’m built like a brick shithouse. I look pretty fucking good when I look at myself in the mirror.

See, working out and getting fit is hard and its supposed to be or there’d be no point in doing it, but the rewards are beyond measure. Not only am I fit the literal sense (9 rounds of hard sparring? Bring it on!) but I’m pretty darned fit in the pejorative sense. This is where I don’t understand the mindset of the people, that despite major evidence to the contrary, cant seem to get their fat heads round the fact that exercise is good for you.

I was called a body fascist the other day by someone when I commented that the lard bucket I saw eating a large bag of crisps maybe should swap them for some fruit. I don’t get the trend for telling people it’s ok to weight 350lbs, that being fat means you’re beautiful and perfectly normal. No you’re not and it’s massively irresponsible to tell you otherwise. We cant give out the mixed messages of healthy eating on one hand and then mollycoddling fatties on the other. Yes it’s rude of me to look down my nose at the obese but they’re the ones who made themselves that way, not me and no amount of patting them on the back and saying it’s ok to eat a family bucket of KFC all to yourself is going to make them feel better, not really.