Yesterday I had the day off. I took full advantage.
I went to a pilates class in the a.m. (holy crap, it was hard). I did my Easter basket shopping, tried on clothes at JCPenney (found a cute dress for vacation for $20, but everything else I tried on was just sad...I need to wait till I lose 10 pounds before I try on any more clothes).
Then I got my haircut (shorter--it looks really cute), and came home. Mark was on his way to a body pump class, so I threw on my walking clothes and hit the pavement. It was gorgeous outside. Cloudy but still some blue skies, with a nice breeze to brush away the humidity. I had an hour, and I went 4 miles. I jogged, in total, a little less than a mile.
I was feeling so great, and with just under a mile to go, some loser slows his van down beside me and says "You see the sidewalk, right?" then shakes his head in condescension and drives off.
The main road near our neighborhood was redone the last couple of summers--widened to two wide lanes with a wide turn lane in the middle. It's beautiful, new, smooth asphalt. Which anyone who puts any miles whatsoever on their feet outside KNOWS is much, much better than the brand new concrete sidewalk, which was also newly installed last summer. Asphalt gives back, all squishy and gentle-like; concrete takes away, with giant thuds of "oh no you are not pounding me--I am gonna pound on you."
I never walk on that sidewalk. There's no reason to. The drive lanes are huge, plenty of room for cars. I always hit asphalt when it's safe, no matter the road.
I've never, ever been verbally assaulted by someone like that. (Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but that's how it felt.) I was taken off guard and pissed off. I yelled at him to bite me. Then as he drove away I said "there's plenty of room for you to drive on, asshole." Yeah, not my finest moment. I wish I'd said, "what, there's not enough room on the road for you and your tiny penis?"
Of course, my gut reaction was he's picking on me because I'm fat. If I'd been running on the asphalt at 145 pounds, he'd probably have whistled at me. Which doesn't make him any less of an asswipe.
I talked with Mark about this (and the lost pictures issues) when he got home. It helped to put things in perspective. I KNOW the guy is the one with the problem, not me. But it still rankled me.
It bothers me that my first thoughts go to being hassled because I'm fat. This isn't the first time I've noticed being treated differently because of my weight, though. Seriously, and any of you who are overweight know this too, when you're fat, it's often like you're invisible. I've felt invisible on several occasions the past few months. At stores, at work, at home.
Is it because of my weight? Or am I putting off a "leave me alone" vibe? Or what?
More fodder for therapy.
I hope that guy woke up this morning with a big boil on his butt. That will teach him.