The truth, the whole truth

I’ve been debating on whether or not I should write this blog post at all; and especially whether I should publish it.  It’s a tough decision for me because it is intensely personal, more personal than anything else I’ve shared here. It’s just that I can’t be the only one who thinks or feels this way and I want to finally come right out and admit the full truth. Something which I have alluded to in past blog posts but never outright said it.

The truth is: I hate being fat.

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Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fattest one of all?

You know I’m fat. You know I’m a girl. You know I run. I’ve written posts about my weight before, but how do I really feel about being a fat runner? What do I really think of my body?

Before I go on, I need to be clear that this post is about me and what I think of my body. It does not reflect what I think about other people. I’ve had enough of being judged myself to know I’d rather ‘do unto others’; so I don’t judge. Also, you’ve probably figured out by now that I am really, really hard on myself. I don’t extend that to anyone else. I would ask anyone reading this post to keep that in mind.*

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Why hello there, Mr. Elephant!

Let’s address the proverbial elephant in the room…my weight.  It’s pretty obvious from my twitter and blog name that I’m overweight.  As I said in my first ever blog post, I really am fat.  And I’m not using the word ‘fat’ as a derogatory term either.  It’s just that ‘This fat girl runs’ is an easier mouthful than ‘this overweight girl runs’.  The thing is, as an overweight runner I know the two things are NOT mutually exclusive.  This is, of course, mostly contrary to popular belief.

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