Come follow my journey as an obese beginning runner, aspiring to one day run a marathon. Read on to learn how and for what purpose I started this blog, or dive straight into some posts here. Curious about the plan I drew up for myself? Find that here!
How did we get here?
It was the good (though pandemic) year of 2020 when I woke up in a hospital bed after top surgery and for the first time in my life felt like I could breathe, and then, after 6 weeks of recovery, for the first time in my life I felt like I could move.
Taking advantage of my new-found comfort with motion, I bought a treadmill and walked, for the first time in my adult existence, for 20 minutes at 4 km/h. The result was sweaty, exhausted and sore, but extremely satisfied, and after a few months I went for 60 to 90 minute long walks outside. Never in my life had I imagined I’d be that person.
At that point I felt like I needed a bit more of a challenge and I will forever be greatful to Hoka for existing. The struggle to find running shoes that properly fit my wide AF forefoot and was cushiony enough for my lovely, albeit perpetually tired ankles, was extremely real, until I found a pair of wide-model Bondis that fit without pinching and off I went, jogging 30 seconds at a time on my little treadmill, regularly feeling like I might die, but loving every second of it somehow anyway.
Enter the day I tried running outside for the first time and learned the hard way that no, you cannot in fact just up and copy your treadmil workout to the road because your feet will fall off (in any case, mine nearly did). Still, I soldiered on. I was starting to feel lonely though. Lonely without running buddies who, like me, weren’t particularly the shape the world expects from runners. People who didn’t necessarily start life out as an active, fit kid. People who knew what it was like to have hit 30 with the most strenuous activity in their life being making it up the stairs for bed every night and having to catch their breath each time. If I say I frantically searched for someone with my shape, my ability, my speed, anything at all relatable, it would be an understatement.
My searches led me to a handful of what seemed like extreme exceptions to the rule that people like me weren’t meant to be running. To C25K and start to run programs that advanced way too much too quickly for me to keep up and made me feel completely inadequate. They were, after all, supposed to be for total beginners. I found people who maybe had been like me, but who were now so far along their journey (also almost always made for the sake of losing weight, which was again, just discouraging and triggering), that I found them hard to relate to. They also made me feel like me wanting to run and enjoying it, would only ever be valid if the result would eventually be that I became lean and fast, if the joy of running wasn’t the goal, but running a means to the end of a stereotypical runners’ body.
The result was that I grew constantly dissatisfied with where I was at and my “slow” progress, that I pushed too hard, tore a muscle by the time I was able to run for 4 consecutive minutes, and quit for several years, disillusioned and convinced running wasn’t for me.
I stuck with walking though, and today I’m at the point I can say yes to an impromptu invitation from a friend to go walk 10 km. I got a pair of Hoka Gaviotas last year, which have been my go-to gym shoes for incline walks on the treadmill. I missed running though. Missed it SO much. And every time I thought “no, remember what happened last time, that’s just not for you…”, but you live, you learn, spring comes around, and I started to recognise that I went too hard too fast, put too many expectations on myself and had simply made the mistake of comparing myself to others. I might just reclaim the joy of running by not doing that this time.
Last Saturday, the 16th of March 2024, I took my trusty Gaviotas to the forest trail at the end of my street, dived back in with 30 second run/3 minute walk intervals, and felt ALIVE. I decided right then that I would document my journey online for all to see. I want to be the resource for others that I never found: a data-packed, in the moment running journal of an obese person. A journey you can follow LIVE, not just musings in hindsight, when it’s easy to reflect and equally easy to forget what the moment was really like.
The Running Fatty 