I went out and ran 5K (3.1 miles) at lunch today with the fledgling run club at work. (There are now two of us, plus the trainer.) I had to take a couple of walk breaks, but still came in slightly under my best official 5K race time.
As I was getting ready to shower off in the locker room afterwards, I overheard the most extraordinary conversation between two women who were changing into their workout gear:
Thin and fit-looking woman 1: Ugh. I am having no luck losing 5 pounds.
Thin and fit-looking woman 2: Yeah, whatever, I'm trying to lose 10 and I'm having no luck at all.
I'm looking at her and thinking that the only way 10 pounds are coming off her frame is if she amputates a limb.
So, I go shower and they're still at it when I get back...
Thin and fit-looking woman 2: So, I have ten days to get to size ZERO.
And, okay, I understand that women do this kind of fat talk as a social bonding thing as much as anything else, and that they possibly weren't as distressed about their "excess" weight as they sounded. But it really bothered me that these women can't seem to be happy with their tanned, toned, slender bodies when I feel so comfortable with my pale, squidgy, but increasingly aerobically fit self.
But I felt a tiny bit smug, too, because there was a time when overhearing such a conversation would have sent me into a spasm of, "Oh no, if these women think that they're *fat*, I must look like a *whale* to them." And now I'm like, "Pffft! This whale just ran 5K."
Maybe I should have invited them to come running with the club next Tuesday.