Why do Fat Men Watch?

 

Reader discretion is advised.  I will potentially offend people here, but I don’t care.  Just observing the truth and writing it down. Please understand that the following groups of people will potentially be offended if they are not reading with an open and honest mind:

1)      Morbidly obese people who specifically are lazy.

2)      Swimmer nuts who eat, drink (well not literally) and sleep in chlorinated pools. (sorry Michael and Ryan)

 

So I suppose some of you may have guessed that I was formerly a competitive long distance runner, but the many thousands of miles on the pavement and multiple skyscraper stair races took their toll on my knees, so I run no more.  But I am in the best shape in years, probably because of my own “knee sparing” circuit training program intermixed with lap swimming using interval training.  I know, you could care less, but I am gradually getting to my point here.

 

I have been forced to become a reluctant swimmer.  Without question however, lap swimming is THE MOST BORING SPORT EVER.  I belong to an athletic club, only in the winter, so that I can do 1200 to 1800 yards of distance and interval/speed swimming to get my heart rate where it needs to be for cardiovascular training.  Mind you though, I won’t say I hate lap swimming, but I force myself to tolerate it because of the results I enjoy.  The athletic club I belong to is not exactly the one the beautiful people attend, or the one where the women go to be seen rather than work out or the men go to pick up these women who make sure they are seen by these hunks.

 

I chose this one because there are no beautiful people there, or if they are there, I don’t notice them because my head is buried in the water, and all I desire is a free lap lane to swim in without competing with kids, beautiful people and water walkers who move their hips back and forth but go nowhere.  Now mind you, I wouldn’t mind it if some bikini magazine models decided to join the club, but then, I clearly wouldn’t get my workouts done in that case.  I know, I need to get away from those distracting thoughts.

 

There are spectators watching me though while I swim.  They are fat men whose bellies roll so far in front of them I could set my kickboard on it without it falling off.  They predicatably sit in the hot tub and watch me, or they go into the sauna room, then they sit on the tile ledge overlooking the lap pool and just stare at me while I swim and huff and puff and sometimes cough.  And they watch.  And then they get up and shower, then sit down and watch again.  Or maybe they stare at the other fat man and see what he’s staring at.

They stare at me.

 

Not sure what pleasure they get out of that.  It’s not like I’m Michael Phelps or anything.  I could see that, yeah I’d like to see him race, but I probably couldn’t sit in the stand for more than well 15 minutes.  But I’d be lucky if I could win a swim race against a 7th grader who just learned to swim.  Most hard core runners are not great swimmers.  Not in their DNA.  And most great swimmers are not good runners.  Except the triathletes, well, they’re different animals altogether.  I know, get back to the point.

 

These fat starer dudes, I notice, out of the corner of my eyes as I turn my head to grab some air, walk just fine, no limps, although it is more of a waller than a walk.  So if they are not disabled, why do they sit and stare for an hour?  Ok, they could be gay, but that thought I need to delete from my mind before it makes me exit from the pool forever traumatized.  No I am not a damn homophobe and I am very tolerant, but you know what I mean in this circumstance.

 

Okay enough of that.

 

So they take their sauna, splash all the water out of the hot spa then, I think they should go home and make themselves useful.  Right?  Or maybe take a walk around the neighborhood and at the same time, learn how to eat more salads.  They are not wheelchair bound and so no, I am not insensitive to disabilities and impairments.  Believe me.  They are just lazy with no life and I think this is some type of entertainment for them. Thankfully, no food is allowed in the pool area.

 

But why do I have to be the entertainment? Is there snot hanging down from my nose that maybe curls up like a cute little curly fry?  I could see it if the pool was a place where the magazine photographers set up their photo shoots of wet bikini clad models, but unfortunately it’s not the case.  Guess I’ll never know.

 

But I’ll keep swimming and ignore the stares.

 

So yeah, swimming many laps using various strokes and speeds to break up the monotony is still boring as hell.  Unlike running where I can run in the rain, sleet and snow, slide down intersections on the ice then get mad at motorists who don’t slow down on the ice then when I slip, I get up and kick their car, knowing they can’t chase me down.  Yeah, I’ve don’t that before, and it feels good.  Course, these are the same people who used to like to get drunk and throw slurpies or milkshakes at me when I ran, in which case, I have been known to catch them at an intersection, jump on their back hood, then jump on their back window and kick in their roof, jump off and run off into the woods.  Love the revenge.  Don’t underestimate a skinny, yet angry runner.  Oh, I forgot to mention angry dogs that bark and salivate and foam at the mouth when I run by on country roads.  Never been bit and I’ll tell you my secret defense someday when that subject arises.  Now running never was boring, no matter how many miles the run was, or at least, the way I ran it wasn’t boring.

 

I know, back to the subject at hand.

 

Swimming as I said is as monotonous as being a trash collector at the white house, constantly throwing boring bags of stupid hundred dollar bills into the trash every day. I have thought that maybe it would be nice to have a panoramic movie travelogue on the bottom of the pool playing all the time while your head is going in and out of the water.  That would be entertaining, but I think it would cause head injury when my head hits the other wall because of the distraction.  I don’t think you can wear ear buds to listen to your mobile music thing or whatever, but I suppose there may be a swimmer nut out there who can correct me about the latest waterproof audio technology.

 

But I think what would really make things interesting is to have, as a part of the membership fee, pretty ladies with nice legs who sit on each end of the lane, their feet adorned with painted nails, crossed, yet dangling in the water, waiting for me to finish and touch the wall.  They will be my lap counters, carrying cards that count the laps for me to see, just like the professional wrestlers and their round counters, because accurate lap counting is critical.  As I near the wall, I see the painted toes and silky smooth legs bobbing and dangling, enticing me to go faster, touch their toes rather than the wall, smile then turn around and speed off to see the next lap counter doing her enticement, I mean counting for me.

 

And one more thing.  I have nothing against people who are overweight. If you believe I’m a fat person hater, you are not reading with comprehension and certainly you’re not thinking. I understand individual genetic variation, disease and the difference between impairment and perceived disability as well as real disability.   But I do have a problem with people who are very overweight, are able to walk, and yet have no intention on improving themselves and therefore their health, but they sure expect me to be there for them when their health deteriorates and they require a medical intervention.  I can’t tolerate laziness whether by a skinny wimp, an average Joe, or an overweight person.

 

 

SRC

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