Being a plus sized runner can be trying sometimes. And I’m not just talking about the physicality of it.
I’m talking about the little patronizing smirks when you mention to someone that you run. The way you feel that you have to keep training through illness or injury because you fear that others will just call you “lazy” for taking a break.
And how difficult it can be to find proper fitting running gear. Ugh. Hydration belts. Ridiculous
The side eyes as someone passes you when you’re doing a run interval, and they’re walking. The moo-ing and EARTHQUAKE comments. The constant need to downplay your progress because you’re still “so slow” or can “only run a few minutes”. The constant apologizing for being slow, or holding others back.
The training plans that are made for “beginners” but seem to progress way too fast for your ample body to be able to progress with them.
The support that begins to feel like your being patronized, as your being told GOOD JOB! YOU DID IT! because your mind is telling you they don’t mean it, its just words.
The way you can feel eyes on your jiggling belly or thundering thigs as you put in the work, and the fleeting look of disgust or pity you catch in those eyes when you meet them with your own.
They way that races don’t seem to care about the bigger, slower runners, as they begin to pack up their finish lines or their aid stations, or the volunteers who help you remember where to go on the course, before you can even complete your race.
I’m talking about all of that....all of that bullshit that I face as a plus sized runner.
And yet, I get up most mornings and wiggle into my sports bar, lace up my sneakers and hit the trail. Because even with all of that bullshit coming at me from all angles, running is what I love to do.