Healthy and fat
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Last night my husband was doing some kung fu stretches at home as he missed his class. I decided to join him, partly because stretching was today's challenge on the club I joined and partly to make it a family thing. Didn't last long, as baby and toddler decided it would be fun to take flying leaps onto our backs and necks, and since I had gotten a workout in already I took them away, but still -- the five minutes was good.
And eye-opening. I have never stretched regularly. Oh, if I'm doing a workout video there will often be 2-3 minutes of stretching at the end -- but by the end I'm usually carrying a baby and skip that part. DH, on the other hand, has been attending this Kung Fu class for almost 6 months and it starts with 15 minutes of stretching.
And yet, I am SO MUCH more limber than he is. He can't get within a foot of his toes -- I can touch mine easily (despite the belly!). He can't spread his feet more than 2.5 feet apart in a split -- I can get wide open and place my palms flat on the floor in between.
Why does that matter? Well, I weigh almost 300 lbs, down from 335 not that long ago. I am morbidly obese was on the cusp of being super-morbidly obese. He weighs about 130, and that's after a concerted effort to gain weight with strength exercises and high-density diet. His BMI is under 20; mine is well over 40.
True, he can run faster and longer than I can -- but I can walk for longer than he can carrying 30 lbs of baby to boot. My blood pressure ranges from 110/70 to 90/55. My resting heartrate is in the 50s -- and sometimes below. My fasting blood sugar is between 60 and 70 (I've used a family member's home testing kit a few times just for fun).
So what's my point? I don't really know. It irritates me when people assume that I'm not healthy just because I'm fat. Yes, being fat decreases my health level overall, but it does not make me an invalid. It especially irritates me when people act all shocked and surprised to see me out and about doing things with my kids. Yes, I know I weigh double what you do -- but you know what? I have no problem trekking around a pick-you-own farm for 4 hours (no, we don't pick for that long, but we need to visit all the animals, and run around the hay bales, and check on the fruit that's not ready yet, and play tag, and visit the animals again, and then oops -- we ate all the blueberries we bought -- let's pick some more) in 95 degree weather with four kids and you (specific judgmental mother from the preschool) wimped out after 1/2 hour.