A few days ago  I began training for next week’s 6k. I got on the treadmill and ran as fast as my thick legs could go for 30 minutes, without slowing down to walk or throw up.

I pushed myself to hit milestones–1 mile, 2 miles–and ran 2.5 miles in just under 30 minutes.

This is very impressive.

Well, it is for me.

On Friday, I completed the full 6k  (3.72 miles)  in under 50 minutes. This includes slowing down from a run to a walk so I could talked to the assistant fitness manager, Angelo, who wanted to tell me they are always available to show me machines.

Hey–Angelo–you were super-sweet, but don’t engage the sweaty fat lady lumbering on the treadmill in hope of a new client. Either way, shes’ not going to appreciate it. And, it will give her excuses to not finish her run, not go as fast, as hard, etc. I mean, wasn’t it fate that someone stopped her from her run?

Do you know the head games fat women play?

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