I Have Heavy Bones

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My older brother was, and sill is, skinny. As a youngster I watched him devour plates loaded with food without ever gaining a pound. I, on the other hand, just have to look at a slice of cake and the ground starts to tremble beneath me. Even now at age 51, my brother is lean while I, at age 44, have to watch every calorie.

I think I was adopted. That, or I was born on Neptune (or possibly Jupiter) where the gravitational pull is stronger, and then dumped back on Earth when still too young to remember. It would certainly explain a few things. Thing is, although I’m lumpy I don’t look that heavy, at least not from close up. The scales, however, tell a different story. As I write this I am 5’11″ and my bathroom scales put my weight at 280lbs. My body fat, however, is in the “normal “range for my age and height. Just don’t get me started on the BMI. According to that scale, I should be eleven feet tall. It’s like I’m this weird alien from Neptune (or possibly Jupiter).

I first became suspicious something was amiss when I was nine. I remember standing in a playground, chatting to a friend. All of a sudden I felt someone or something bump into me. I turned around to see a kid sprawled on the floor. He had been chasing a soccer ball and did not see me standing there and just bounced off. My friend who saw it happen looked at me with wide eyes, then looked down at the kid (one of the school “jocks”), then back at me again, and gave me an admiring nod.

During my time as an aerobics instructor, my weight settled on 210lbs at 8% body fat. People said I actually looked underweight, but the scales said something else. I remember one occasion being assessed by my doctor. He told me to step onto a standard set of bathroom scales. I saw they only went to 220lbs and said they wouldn’t take my weight. He insisted, so I obliged. He looked seriously surprised when the needle slammed against the top of the scale so hard it almost snapped off. Following on from that, I had a conversation with a guy at work that went something like this:
Him: What’s with the salad?
Me: I want to lose a few pounds
Him: Why, how much do you weigh?
Me: 270lbs.
Him: No you don’t.
Me: I weighed myself last week.
Him: Your scales are wrong.
Me: I have two sets of scales.
Him: You don’t weigh 270lbs.
Me: A doctor weighed me.
Him: Really?
Me: Yes.
Him: You don’t weigh 270lbs.
And so on…

Although being heavy has its disadvantages (for example, I find it easier to go under the bar in the high jump event) it can come in handy at times. My training partner at school once quipped that I look very short from a distance but grow bigger as you get closer, a bit like an ink stain on blotting paper or a living optical illusion. This was demonstrated one evening while I was walking with some friends from school and a loutish type came running towards us, shouting something about wanting to fight. My friends ran off but I stood my ground, pulling back my fist and taking aim at the guy’s chin. As he approached, his expression changed to one of surprise. He seemed to change his mind about fighting and instead grinned and extended his hand, saying: “How’s it going?” Another time, a lifeguard called me out of the sea at Durban for swimming outside the designated area. He had his hands on his hips and body language that suggested he planned to give me a good telling off. As I got closer, however, his posture changed. He dropped his hands and his shoulders slumped as a worried look spread across his face. I’m a weird walking optical illusion from Jupiter.

And it isn’t getting any better. While on contract in Belgium a few years back I had some guy in a suit shoulder charge me for no apparent reason. It was lunchtime and I was heading back to the office with a sandwich. As I was walking along the deserted sidewalk minding my own business, I happened to notice this perfectly normal-looking young man walking towards me about a hundred yards away. He was on my left so I kept to the right, leaving plenty of room for him to pass with extra to spare. About fifty yards out I noticed he was drifting across to my side. I looked up and saw that he was walking straight towards me. I ignored him and looked down again, figuring he was planning to cross the road. But that wasn’t his intention. He walked straight into my shoulder, presumably planning to knock me out of the way. I tensed my shoulder and kept going. As we made contact I heard him yelp as he bounced off me. I didn’t look back but I saw him spin around out of the corner of my eye. I carried on walking, wondering why on earth anyone would shoulder charge a complete stranger. I’m a weird immovable walking optical illusion from Jupiter.

I have reached the conclusion that I will never be skinny like my older brother, but then, being heavy-boned can be pretty cool as well. Given the choice, I think I would rather be the way I am. Anyway, God loves me this way.

And as the old bumper sticker says: Why be normal?