"Slaughter the Fat Slobs..."

The woman in front of me in line shifted uncomfortably. Her shirt was a bit too short to cover her hanging belly and her pants a bit too tight across the dimpled seat, drawing even more unintentional attention to it.

She placed her clothing selections on the counter and rummaged through her purse to find her wallet. With her eyes averted, the two young, well dressed sales clerks, a man and a woman, made eye contact with each other and pulled out a repetoire of comical faces, blowing out and distending their cheeks, with the man holding his arms a ways out from his sides and moving ponderously from side to side. The customer looked up once and said, "I'm sorry, I know it's in here somewhere." They snapped back to feigned attentiveness as soon as she spoke, but once her gaze was back in her purse, the mocking continued until they were in silent hysterics at each other. She fished out her wallet and completed her purchase, no doubt adding a tidy sum to those clerks' sales tallies for the day. She completed her transaction by softly telling them both, "Thank you- I really do appreciate your help."

I burned inside- with embarrassment for her, with anger at the rudeness of the clerks, and at the memories of what it was like for me when I was morbidly obese.

I wasn't always morbidly obese. In fact, I was slender, fit, and considered pretty through my twenties. A tragedy and the resulting well camouflaged depression that draped itself over me obliterated the fastidiousness with which I usually cared for myself. A back injury and a couple of knee injuries cemented my slide downwards into a weight that was over twice my original size. My sweet husband loved me just the same and never, not once, spoke one negative word to me about my appearance or my weight, but that didn't negate the trash others threw covertly my way.

I noticed many people refused eye contact with me, even though speaking politely, as if my obesity was contagious. Then there were those to whom somehow, despite the fact that I had multiple degrees and held state offices in professional associations and was a school teacher and a lecturer at a university, my intelligence was also diminished by my obesity.

In restaurants, there was always at least one patron or server who would look to see what I was eating, as if I was not a human but an animal in the zoo on display. I remember hearing one person laughing in a group of people, "They should just slaughter all those fat slobs. The food saved could go to feed those starving kids!" People guffawed as if it was the best joke they'd ever heard.

While some sales clerks were gracious, others were downright hostile. I learned to approach the sales clerk first in a clothing store that was not a plus sized store to let them know I was looking for clothing for one of my children or someone else, so they wouldn't come up to me to tell me they had nothing in my size.

People who held the assumption that overweight people are also lazy hung it on me like a medal at the Olympics. I found myself working much harder than others to prove to them that not only was I capable, but that I was successful. I saw folks with much limper work ethics but with model-worthy good looks getting huge promotions.

Even in church, there were some who felt that because my physical body was in bad shape, my spiritual body must be likewise.

No one else in my original family, present family, or extended family struggles with obesity, and it was hard for some of  them to understand why I couldn't just "fix it". Quit eating, exercise, and it will come off. Well, of course, that's correct, but it's much easier said than done, especially when you have just about given up, as I had.

With a miraculous epiphany I had several years ago, I started the hard climb out of obesity and back into health, with amazing support from my husband, kids, and friends. Now at my goal weight, I can say it has been one of the most difficult things I've ever done. I exercise like a mad woman, count calories as if my life depends on it (and it does) and am now known as a fitness nut. I believe with all my heart no one is beyond redemption.

And when that woman in front of me turned around after paying for her items, I looked her in the eye and said, "I saw some of the things you picked out- you have a great eye for color. In fact, you've given me some ideas of  things I want to look for."

Her eyes widened and she looked at me carefully for a moment, as if to judge the genuineness of my compliment. Then, her face relaxed and she replied, "Thank you so much," and punctuated it with a soft nod and gentle smile.

After she exited, I placed my selections on the counter. The two clerks both had compliments about my choices and the female clerk remarked, "I wish I had your waist!"

I thanked her, and then watched the smiles sink from their faces when I launched in, "I saw what you were doing to the woman in front of me..."

This is another post I did about my weight loss, and it has then and now pictures in it: Losing 167 Pounds But Finding More of Me. If you are obese or want to change something else in your life, it can be done. Really, really, it CAN be done. It may not be easy, and it may not be quick, but it can be done. Believing in yourself is the very first step. You are worth it.

Losing 167 Pounds But Finding More of Me

Three years ago, it was hot, dry, and dusty here in South Texas, just as it is now. Some things haven't changed much in that time, but for me, some things have.

This is me, about three years ago. It's painful now to look at, but it's the true thing:

I'm on the left with my sweet mother-in-law. My body was breaking down and I'd had two knee surgeries and a back surgery.



About three years ago, I really had some serious self talks and began on my journey to lose weight. It's been difficult, and at times seemingly impossible. There have been days I've wanted to scream as loudly as I can, "I QUIT!!!", but with my family's support, I'm still in this.

I'm so close to the finish now I can smell it. I'm the healthiest I've been in a long time. I met my original weight goal, but now I'd like to lose about 20 more lbs.



Here I am this past school year. I've never claimed to be photogenic, but this picture is a heckuva lot better than the first one.

I'll be running in my first half marathon in November and my doctor is astounded at my cardiovascular fitness.

 My back, which a neurosurgeon told me needed to be fused, and my knee, which supposedly has no cartilage left in it, hold up fine to the 20 miles I run a week along with the step aerobics, weight training, and other workouts I do.

I believe no one is beyond redemption. I had completely given up hope that I could ever be back to a normal weight and live a healthy life, but with a little determination and God's help, it's happening.

Yep, three years can make a world of difference or no difference at all. It just depends on what you choose to do with it.

Am I Crazy/ Nuts/Psycho Exerciser?

Just before my school board meeting started last night, a fellow trustee asked me, "What did you do for your workout today?'

I told her I'd done my running that morning while wearing a weight vest and it had been very hot (the heat index was well over 100 here yesterday). She asked me about the bootcamp part of my workout I've been doing  (Bootcamp Workout). I told her I'd had to do that in the peak heat of the afternoon because of the early school board meeting.

She proceeded to tell everyone there that I was crazy for the way I work out (I am very careful and stay plenty hydrated) and that I am a psycho exerciser.

During the school year, I host Insanity workouts in my classroom after school for teachers and administrators. I'm also part of a small teacher running group at school. Even over the intercom, my district's superintendent has called me the exercise nazi. Others have told me I am nuts because I faithfully workout 6 days a week, rain or shine, feeling well or not.

The names don't bother me too much, but sometimes I wonder if I am too fanatical about it. I've written in an earlier blog how I've lost a massive amount of weight; in fact, I've lost more than I weigh now. Heavy exercise has been a major tool in my arsenal against fat.

I worry that if I let up at all, the fat woman who is chasing me (my former self) will catch me and wrap me up in her embrace once again.

It's a miracle, having had two knee surgeries and a back surgery as well as the morbid obesity that plagued me for over a decade, that I am able to exercise at this level.

I have no intention of going back to my old self. If that means exercising like a fool, so be it.

I am not addicted to exercise (well, maybe I am a little), but I wouldn't do it in a way that is harmful to my body. I feel strongly that most of us can do harder things physically than what we ever ask our bodies to do.

Is there ever a time to ease up on exercise and remain fit? I don't have the answer to that right now. What do you think?

IMPORTANT: If you are battling obesity or have never exercised and are wanting to start, please check with your dr. and have him/ her help you set up a fitness plan.

"Please, won't you join me in the water?"

Last week I went on a swimming field trip with my 8th graders. A group of 3rd graders also accompanied us.

The day was gorge-a-tabulous. The pool looked terrific, replete with contorted slides, climbing ropes, and all the other features that make kids salivate.

Their glee was contagious. The splashing, screaming, and cavorting would have made even the foulest of grumps crack at least a small smile.

I noticed one little sweet pea 3rd grader who is autistic and has other disabilities standing with his teacher near the edge of a gentle ramp leading into the water. He was refusing to even get his toes wet despite her assurances that she would hold his hand the whole way.

I joined the convo, adding detail about how much fun he would have in the water and we would be right beside him.

He sized me up. At 5'9", I am considerably taller than his teacher. "Are you taller than the water?"

"Yes, honey, I am taller than the water in this part of the pool. I will hold your hand and not let go unless you ask me to."

He weighed his options. "If I slip into the deep end, will you hold me above your head and above the water?"

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Your teacher and I along with all the lifeguards here will keep you safe."

Hand in hand, the three of us waded in. He squealed with delight. He wanted to go beyond the edges of the pool, so we waded into the middle. I wasn't wearing a swim suit, but I rolled my shorts up as high as I dared in the presence of my 8th graders.

"Ok, you can let go," he said loudly to his teacher and me.

"Are you sure, darling? I'm having fun with you here in the water."

"I'm not afraid now. You can let go, " he reiterated.

We retreated back outside the pool and watched his raw joy overflow into the water as he splashed with other kids.

As I did my teacherly duties the rest of the afternoon, which included being cheerleader for the daring divers, a judge for the swimming races, and the PDA (public displays of affection) policewoman, our now happy little 3rd grader would call out to me from time to time.

'Won't you please join me in the water? Please come swim with me near the rope." (This kid knew his manners.)

It deflated me inside to tell him I couldn't swim out to the rope because I wasn't wearing a swim suit. Undeterred, he continued to ask me to swim with him. I waded with him more, but it wasn't the same as fully immersing in the cool water.

Why, you might ask, wasn't I wearing a swim suit to a pool when the other teachers were?

Over the last three years, I have lost 167 lbs. Not a typo. I have lost more than I weigh right now. I haven't worn a swimsuit for at least 18 years. Yes, I love my body now and fitness is my middle name. I work HARD six days a week, sweating through cardio, flipping tractor tires, lifting weights, and doing enough squats and lunges to have covered the length of Texas.

My surgeon has taken care of much of my excess skin. Mr. Tejano tells me often in glowing terms what he thinks of my body. Others are very complimentary of my new shape. My friends are aghast that I still haven't put on a swimsuit, with a beach almost in our back yard. I wear shorts and a tank top even on our trips there.

Honestly, I haven't quite put a finger yet on why I can't bring myself to put on a swimsuit. I see people who are even bigger than I used to be, leaving nothing to the imagination in itty bitty suits at the beach. "Why," the people close to me reason, "don't you want to show off the results of all your hard work?"

I dunno. It's the one last big hurdle I need to work through to make my weight loss journey complete. Self perception and reality can be two very different things.

But, I am going to work on it this summer. I will look at some swim suits the next time I go shopping. Maybe I'll be able to buy one. Maybe I'll be able to actually put it on.

And maybe, just maybe, if my sweet 3rd grade friend asks me, "Please, won't you join me in the water?", I'll be able to swim out to the rope with him.