By any measure, I am now fat. For the first time in my life, I did not lose any weight from one month of fasting. I usually lose around 5kg, which I would easily gain back and more in the ensuing “feastive” month. And usually, after the dust had settled, I would be at my normal (though not ideal) weight again. This time, however, I only gained. And my normal weight is at a distant 10kg away.
I am not sure what happened. I think I move more now compared to when I was in Baku. I am more active too. But I guess I eat more too. A lot more.
Now being fat is like becoming a new person. I find myself struggling with some activities, such as climbing up the stairs, playing with my kids, walking a distance. It feels harder to breathe, like the air is thinner and my lung capacity has shrunk.
Flexibility is also limited. The tummy especially gets in the way of many motions. For example, I was once very agile in exiting and entering a car when it’s parked in a compact space. I no longer have this luxury.
Parts of my body start to give way probably due to the extra weight they have to carry. I feel pain in my knees, ankles, and neck. I no longer dare to jump from a height for fear of tearing something painful.
Overall movements are noticeably slower and far from sharp. I attempted to resume playing futsal recently (after a 3-year break) only to find that I am just a shadow of who I used to be. My form has been an embarrassment that I resent playing, which defeats the purpose of exercising and sports.
The clothes. Need new clothes. Shirts, pants. I am left staring at a wardrobe of clothes I can no longer wear without looking like a wrapped jackfruit (‘barut nangka) — a Kelantanese saying for a fat person wearing tight-fitting clothes.
I hate looking at myself in the mirror. Sometimes when I stare long enough, I would go, “Who the hell is this guy? Did he just eat me?”
The comments people make. I can’t help but to feel demoralized every time someone makes a comment about my being fat. I can’t imagine if I was being made fun of for being a fat kid. That would’ve hurt a lot more. Not to mention a life-long emotional scar.
I had my fair share of making fun of fatties and fatsos. Like Leslie Chow said in Hangover, “He’s funny because he’s fat!”. I thought that was hilarious. Hahaha.
Jokes aside, all these experiences have somewhat enlightened me. I now have a newfound respect for fat people, especially those who were born “big-boned”. They may seem lazy at times, but this is only because of the way they look. If anything, they work harder (have to put in more effort) in performing the same tasks that lean people may do with relative ease.
To live life with extra weight has its extra challenges. I shall no longer take this fact for granted.
More of us should experience this enlightenment so that we no longer judge and make fun of those who are overweight. Thank you for putting in writing what so many people go through every day.