To the kid who called me fat today...

Today I didn't run very far. About 1.5k from my home to the end of the road.

I was proud that it was the furthest I'd gone without stopping or slowing. Maybe I could have gone further.


Just before I reached my home, you were sat on a bike with a small group of other kids, and as I came closer you pointed at me, laughed and said "fatty".

And I kept on going. I got home and did my cool down routine.

And then I cried.

Because let's face it. No one is ever going to enjoy being called fat.

I've got this horrible, sick feeling in my tummy right now.

I feel embarrassed.

I feel self-conscious.

I feel like a bit of an idiot.

I wasn't surprised. You didn't say anything to me that I haven't said to myself thousands of times before.

I'm 31 years old, I'm overweight and carrying a 'mummy tummy' from having two kids. I like to eat cake.

I've never enjoyed sport. I did some running whilst I was at secondary school (I even won the 800 metres once, unbelievable) but it wasn't something I loved so much that I wanted to do it after spraining my ankle and taking a while to get back to normal.

Since then, running hasn't been 'my thing'. At least, it wasn't until about a month ago when my little girl took part in a Junior Park Run.

Then I tried it with her. And I've taken up running some evenings. Not far, not fast but building up bit by bit you know? I want to be a good example to her, I want to be a Mum who is happy to have my photo taken with my kids.

6 weeks ago you wouldn't have budged me from the sofa, let alone see me run down the street. I had to go out and buy a proper pair of trainers! At first my 'runs' were more of an energetic waddle with breaks of gasping for air but I'm not too bad now.

When I got back and was upset, my daughter noticed. She was there when I told my husband what had happened and she was confused.

"My Mummy isn't fat."

Tonight, we read together as we always do. We read a chapter, prayed and had a cuddle. Just as I kissed her goodnight, she said.

"Well done on your run Mummy."

And that's why I'll put my trainers on tomorrow or the next day and run again. A bit further. A bit faster.

The next time I turn down a second slice of cake or order salad instead of chips I won't be thinking of you.

I don't need you to tell me I'm fat.

And I don't need you or your name-calling to motivate me into doing more.

I'm doing this for my kids. Hoping that as they grow they'll understand the effort, that they'll 'get it' when want to be the very best I can for them in more ways than one. Hoping that they'll see their Mum, see others running and it not even cross their mind to laugh at that person's size or body weight.

Let's face it. You won't read this blog - you're not a Mum, you're not interested in family activities, days out or how I feel about the massive responsibility heaped on my shoulders but a tiny part of me hopes that your Mum reads this blog and perhaps tells you about it. Or maybe someone else's Mum will reach out to their kids because of this post and remind them how unkind it is to call someone names, point and laugh.

So that the next time me, or someone just like me, goes out to run, we won't have to feel the way you made me feel today.

3 Little Buttons Real Mum Reviews

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