F.A.T.

I rode my bike tonight. About 6 miles. In 100 degree weather. And a kind and thoughtful young man informed me that I was fat. In fact, "Really fat." Now being a woman who is fully aware of both my size and the fact that he was standing still doing absolutely nothing--my response was a cool "Have ya looked in the mirror lately, sweetness?"

A year or so I probably wouldn't have said anything. And cried. A lot. But there's something about riding six miles that makes you both tougher and also less inclined to give a shit about what someone else thinks. And it's addictive--this sense of toughness. Not that I didn't consider running him over, mind you. And not that truly the best response would have been to smile and say, "Thank you. Have a good evening."

F.A.T. Freely Admitting Toughness