Pet Peeves

I used to commute to work on my bicycle from the suburbs to just across the river from DC. As long as I obeyed the law (just like any other vehicle), I saw safe. I hated it when other cyclists would ride as though they were adults one moment and little kids doing whatever they wanted the next. And I never wore spandex...just shorts and my Special Needs kid white Bell helmet.
John, it takes a very brave or very xyz man to ride a bicycle in DC.
 
I am talking about the women who are 300lbs, and squeezing into to them. Not the thin fit women.
My mother called me fat at a size 4 at 5’10. This January she called me scrawny at size 8/10. Let’s make our minds up please.
Sometimes the sight may not be pleasant and I am not defending fat women but there is a story behind most of them. Been there, done that, ate the tofu.
Nobody is perfect and age brings out a lot of imperfections. A good friend is around 250 at 5’7. She is always put together even in bright red leggings. Her hair can be a messy bun and she can miss a finger nail but she walks in a room and sparkles. She has presence. Those dimples on her thighs do not take away from her.
Personally I knew one 300 pounder. A top tier recruiter with Regions Bank. It was a combination of a 24/7 high impact job and a spouse with every illness under the sun. We had OW Lee patio furniture and they asked for bar stools. He passed in his late 40s, she left the industry, went through surgery and is doing fine.
 
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