Anyway, Back to this concept of an Iron Mom. I read a post the other day that started out "Hey Fat Girl." of course, not being the smallest person on the track, I felt that momentary thrill of terror and excitement thinking they were talking to me.
post. The whole post offers encouragment to a presumably new, heavier runner.
But what if she wasn't new?
Think about it-- how often do you go out to the track (or the pool, or to ride your bike) and have someone pass you, look better than you do out there, go faster than you are. How does this make you feel?
For me, it is always hard. I'm not the smallest one out there by any stretch of the imagination, often I feel like I'm the biggest. I'm usually one of the slowest. But I'm there. When I see others out there smaller than I, I do always wonder what they think of me. If I'm wearing some article of Ironman Finisher's gear, then I'm able to tell myself (true or not), "well, hell, I've finished 2 Ironmans" and, as I hope they notice that my shirt says finisher, move slowly on.
I see those larger than me. And I generally offer some word of encouragement as I go by. Do they appreciate this? Would I appreciate it or would I internalize it and feel like they didn't think I was enough of an athlete.
And does it matter that I've 2 kids, a cat, a dog, a snake, and a husband at home-- none of whom offer enthusiastic support of my
Anyway, what does and Iron Mom look like? I hope it just comes down to what I attempt to teach my sons every day: there is no time where a woman is more beautiful than when she is sweaty and disgusting after finishing a 10 mile run.
