Wednesday 20 January 2016

Why being a Former Fat Kid rules and vanity drools

Prepare yourself for some shocking news. I was not that cool or pretty at the start of my formative years.
I know, you see this Deity before you and the mind baffles but no, at school, I was the fat foreign kid who snacked on dried meat and had thick stockings that always wrinkled at the ankles. Genuinely, there are some photos in the world that need to be destroyed with fire.

At the start of my teenage years at school, I was never burdened by boyfriends and young love or distracted by secret admirers. Instead, I gravitated towards rock music, awesome** band hoodies and education. Don't get me wrong, I had a nice group of friends, developed my sense of humour, enjoyed being 'quirky' and was probably a little TOO involved in my food technology GSCE (coupled with doing drama, again, another shocker).

At university, having lost my puppy fat, I  met a boy who had a similar experience. We bonded over how you would instantly fell in love with someone if you liked the same music or they mentioned that cool, unheard of band that only you thought you knew, The Beatles. We also shared the same tag...Former Fat Kid.

Now, instead of being embarrassed about this, we embraced it. It was like a modern day telling of the ugly duckling, set in the heart of Leicester. I rarely felt the pressure to look too presentable or act a certain way. I had a lot of guy friends and acted as such, I didn't preen or take too much care over my hair or make up and didn't care about getting roughed up playing basketball on a Saturday.

Then, the opposite happened. Boys started to pay attention. I was asked out on dates and I started wanting to make a impression and look pretty. I would be embarrassed when my guy friends would talk about me farting in front of potential suitors and shied away from play fights in case I got too hot and sweaty.

This translated into the gym. As soon as I started exercising more regularly and realised that actually doing burpees and squats and running would make me look particularly gross for that hour or so, I couldn't embrace it, I found it hard to be nonchalant. I would make jokes to waste time and laugh off my bad technique. I wouldn't go as fast (I actually couldn't in those days) and if there was a relatively attractive member of the opposite sex I would be all too focused on how I looked instead of my work out.

Wait... there is a point to my rambling!

All too often, people worry too much about how they look in the gym and then begrudge not seeing results.They are worried about the ugly contorted face that only lifting heavy weights will give you, doing heavy deadlifts in case a fart sneaks out or fear the dreaded sweat drips when doing burpees.. what if one splatters that person next to you?!! After not seeing results, they then think exercise is pointless and stop trying.

Getting a personal trainer (Nick) forced me to embrace this anxiety. Working out in front of just one person was tough but wanting to A) get value for money B) get results and C) prove to him that I could do it reverted me to my glorious FFK days.

I no longer care about how I look or what people think because everyone is there doing the same as me, wanting to get fitter and faster and feel better. Yes, I am a mess when I train but I like it and it's worth it.

My new favourite saying? 'You gotta go ugly'

**Not actually awesome

P.S. The boy from Uni and I are still good friends to this day. You can still see the FFK in us with a miscellaneous stain on our clothes or day old crumbs from something we don't remember eating in our hair.

                                                         
                                                          Then


                                                         Now

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