Ladies, back me up on this one. You've all heard horror stories involving some idiot not only mistaking an overweight woman as being pregnant, but also remarking on it to her. You gasp and think, "Oh, God. That would be the worst."

Trust me, that's not the worst. I know because yesterday the worst happened to me.

At work yesterday, this woman who has always been nice to me apparently decided to turn me into a sobbing wreck. She reaches over, cups my stomach, and asks, "What is this??"

I stared at her, completely shocked. I thought to myself, "Is she asking if I'm pregnant?"

If only. It would have been a hundred times better to think that this woman, let's call her The Devil, had merely misinterpreted my extra weight.

I finally managed to squeak out an answer: "Me."

Forgive me for not thinking of something more clever to say. I guess it was the mortification of a pregnancy implication in front of everyone at the library that numbed my brain.

She cocks an eyebrow and drawls, "Girrrrl, you better start watching yourself."

I had no words. None. Not a single verb or noun sprang to my mind.

I can feel the heat rising to my face, air cutting off in my throat. The Devil begins talking about how she is so thin and could probably use some of my fat.

The Devil cocks her head and says, "You have to tell me what kind of food you eat. Do you eat lots of candy?"

Candy? Did she just ask me if I eat lots of candy?

The Devil continues. "Because I'm so thin, maybe I should do what you do. I eat all the time, but I only eat healthy things. You must eat a lot of candy and ice cream and lots of doughnuts."

I don't look to be sure, but I feel people turning to look up at the counter where I'm staring resolutely down as The Devil makes me feel like a disgusting, slovenly pig. I begin blinking heavily because I refuse to cry in front of this woman. And yet I can say nothing back to her.

Before I can escape, she adds one final comment. "You better be careful, or Carol and Marlene are just going to feed you until you pop."

I've never been so humiliated in my life. And worse than anything, I felt so fucking stupid. I went straight home to my mommy and sobbed.

I can't even remember everything that woman said to me, but I know there was more. I know I should have stood up for myself, but I think I was afraid of drawing even more attention to the situation. And I couldn't swear at her because I was at work. I almost followed her out of the library to ask in what world would it be considered appropriate or acceptable to say the things she'd just said to me. I wanted to say a lot of things, but I'm sure I either would have started crying or started swearing at her.

What's truly awful is that, previous to this, I had been so proud of myself for continuing with my Curves workouts and signing up for a 4-mile race as a part of this weekend's town festivities. And all it took was one woman degrading me in front of co-workers (who claim they didn't hear any of this) and library patrons to make me feel like a pathetic loser.

Well, I cried last night. And today, I'm done with feeling bad about myself. Anybody who can't accept me because of my weight is just a douchebag, anyhow. The thing is, I started working out again to please myself, to be happy with myself. It wasn't to prove a point to anyone else or to get someone to like me. I have nothing to prove to others. I have awesome friends and a supportive family, and that's good enough for me.

Anyway, as I wrote above, I entered a 4-mile race this morning. It's our annual Liberty Fest days in town, and apparently every year there's this little race called The Fishy Four. The "Four" obviously comes from the number of miles participants run or walk. The "Fishy" part comes, I assume, from the fact that we're a lake town and get most of our tourists because of the lakes. Oh, and because it's part of our town logo. See pictures below.

So, my boss Carol and I registered at about 7:45 this morning, got our free T-shirts for getting there early, then joined a crowd of 345 at the starting line. Carol and I walked the race, which began at the beach, and extended down to the airport and around the island and back. Whew. I think for newbies we did pretty well. At least, we didn't come in last place. Close, but not last. :) It was sunny out with a nice breeze that kept us pretty cool through all the little hills. My finishing time was 1:15:18. I don't know what place I was in because, by that time, they'd just stopped giving them. hahaha Sad but true. After we crossed the finish line, we headed back up to the main crowd to claim our door prizes. Carol won a 12-pack of Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi, which she loathes. I won a package of golf balls, with which I have not decided what to do.

My participant T-shirt. I got an XL, thinking it would be a goal for me to be able to fit into it. Then I got it home and realized it was a Men's XL. I don't think I'll have any trouble getting that bad boy on.

Close up. I told Carol that the shirt reminded me of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

My balls.