The Chair

A very rare weekend post. I think I’m writing this right now because I am sitting inside my warm house starring out at a nasty outside and I feel calm and cozy and I wanted to write. Sometimes I crave the written word like I crave a good workout. Perhaps it’s the reflection and head clearing that I mostly crave. Regardless, here I am, writing. Which means I will have very little to say tomorrow but I guess that is a-okay. Maybe then I will actually get some real work done.

I want to talk about something that occurred Friday night at my concert. I attended the Kelly Clarkson/Maroon 5 concert, which was quite amazing by all accounts. My first biggest observation was that Kelly Clarkson is phenomenal live. That girl can sing. Of course this doesn’t shock me, but boy she is talented and as sweet as can be. Adam Levine still comes off with a cocky air to him, but that is to be expected. Overall, still seems like he can play the nice guy pretty well and he is pretty danged handsome so I forgive him his arrogance. Of course my second observation comes in the form of holy shit, Adam Levine is skinny. Like I had no idea and get no real perception from the television of how rail thin he actually is. Bizarre. In person, I was just blown away by what a tiny man he was. Anyway, now onto the topic I wanted to discuss.

The concert took place at an ampitheatre meaning that it was partially outdoors. It was covered and I did not get wet. I was a little cold but nothing too major. The point of this is that the seats are more like stadium type seating. Sure they are real seats with backs sandwiched in there for maximum capacity despite how desperately close you are to the person next to you. But they are plastic, like cheap ass plastic. Even I noticed when I sat down how flimsy these things were. Sometime, pre concert, as we were sitting there, my sister Pam shifted in her chair and I heard a slight cracking noise and I got scared. Nothing really happened but I was scarred for her.

A little while later we heard a big crack noise and we both turned around a few rows behind us we saw a larger woman standing and a broken seat. The girl was obviously sad and upset and probably embarrassed. Her friends were hugging her and she had tears streaming down her face. I can not tell you in that exact moment how sad I felt. I literally had to fight back my own tears. I looked at my sister and said, “My heart is breaking for her right now and I literally am fighting back tears.”

Part of me thinks it’s because I was scarred for my own sister in her chair but part of it was because I 100% felt her pain. I understood and I felt like every fat girl in the world in a moment of weight related trauma. I couldn’t help it. My heart broke. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to cry with her. I wanted to tell her I understood. I wanted to tell her that it was okay. I just sat in my chair.

Eventually the stadium people brought her another disposable chair and sat down next to it. Embarrassing to say the least. I don’t want to assume that everyone would feel embarrassed by this because some people are very confident, but I think her tears were pretty good indication of her embarrassment over the situation. Stupid CHEAP ass plastic chairs.

This put me on heightened alert the duration of the night as my sister’s chair kept making cracking noises. I was worried for her. I wasn’t concerned about anyone thinking less of me or drawing attention to myself, I was simply worried for her. I would have battled anyone to the death over saying something to her. I became that fiercely protective. Not that she needs protecting. She is a quite capable woman all by herself, mostly way stronger than I have ever been, but I felt like in terms of weight and health I wanted to tell other people to shut the fuck up because it is HARD ass shit and unless you’ve lived it you have no idea. That is probably why I so instantly related to that poor woman behind me. And I why I wanted to cry for her because every ounce of my being understood her pain. All to well honestly. Actually, I probably would not have been at that concert to begin with because I always let me weight stand in my way of doing anything that I wanted so she was already a leg up on me for sure.

Sometimes I have to fight my urge to be a preachy no it all bitch. Part of me wanted to tell her that she could change and it could be different if she wanted it. That I was living proof that anything was possible, and yet, I realize that this is not something that most people probably want to hear. She probably does not want to hear anything of the sort. Most people are content in their little worlds and who am I to ever say that she isn’t fine the way she is and that she needs to change? That’s not very nice or fair of me at all. I feel this way with my sister too. I want her to be happy and healthy but I keep my mouth shut because she doesn’t want to hear it. Someday, if she ever wants my help, I will be here, but in the mean time there is just nothing I can do.

This was all just one more reminder of why I am doing what I do. Why I have worked so hard to go down a different path. And why I am proud of what I have accomplished this past year. The concert ended up being great, but LATE. Trying to leave the venue afterwards proved to be a nightmare. We literally sat in the parking lot for an hour. Yup, a full hour, before we could move the car. I did not get home until 2 AM. And yet something inside of me, perhaps, the mental image of seeing that woman standing there crying, got me to get out of bed and to the gym at 9 AM yesterday morning. I was exhausted and didn’t really want to go, but I told myself to do it anyway.

Once class started at 9 AM, I pretty much warmed up and was feeling good. So much so that when that class was done I did a 10AM class. It helped my favorite instructor was going for the gusto and was teaching all the classes and told me to stick around for the 10 class because it was strength training. I was in. She had me at strength training.

And then a funny thing happened, she was teaching Zumba at 11 AM, and I decided to just push on thru and do that as well. Not really a Zumba girl, but I figured it would be fine nonetheless. So I did 3 classes in a row. 9 Turbokick, 10 strength training, 11 Zumba. Cardio- strength – Cardio. It was fun and I honestly didn’t have much else to do so it worked out for me. I felt powerful and strong, which is always nice.

And now I am sitting here typing in my living room watching that rain come down in my gym clothes getting ready to head out once again. Its completely quite and peaceful and part of me just wants to stay in, but I know that won’t work for me ultimately. I need the gym to feel my high to get thru the day. So I will head to the gym and put in some solid time and enjoy myself. It’s just what I do. I’ve come such a long way in a year.