The shrunken woman

In July 2014 on July 16, 2014 at 6:36 pm


Sarah: There’s a woman at my gym who shocks and horrifies and fascinates me all at once.

I used to admire her. Back then, her body was lean and muscular, in great shape.

I used to challenge myself to match her strength and speed in cycling classes. I’d see her move from one session directly to the next, whilst I’d stagger out to recover with a latte, before facing the kids at home.

Then I had a break from the gym. When I came back, she had shrunken.

Now, her limbs look twig-like, fragile.

Now, I can see all the individual muscle groups in her thighs and upper arms. Having studied anatomy, I’m reminded of the cadavar dissections we used to do.

Her bike shorts are falling off her. Even with the padded seat, there’s barely any bulk at all in her rear end.

Whilst I’m in a singlet right from the get-go, she retains 3 layers – including a puffer jacket – until 3/4 of the way through the class.

I’ve been through phases in my life when I was firmly committed to slimming down a bit, and getting fitter. I understand that feeling of taking control and striving for better health and appearance. Hell, after three babies there’s a lot of firming up which can be done.

But this is different.

Having said that, it’s not even my business. She doesn’t know me. And I don’t know if she eats or not. I don’t know if she is miserable or not. I don’t know if she wants help or not.

But I do know that when she enters the room, every pair of eyes is watching. Watching to see if she’s ok.

Are you ok?

[image thanks to Unnie Dolls on flickr]

  1. This reminds me of a girl in my netball club and every time I see her I ask myself the same question

  2. A friend on FB suggested all we can do is be a friend, ready for the day when they want help.

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