Oh, you SO sound like me! A few years ago for my 42nd birthday, I wanted a bike. At 280+, I wasn't sure there were bikes out there for me, so I did a lot of research. I got a lovely "beach bike" (a cross between a trail bike with big fat wheels and a regular sit-up bike with normal handlebars) with a good sturdy frame. I was so excited! But the first few times I was overwhelmed at how hard it was. I took it fairly slowly at first, and no hills! And gradually, it got easier.

I had a very different experience. Hubby and I bought bikes the summer before last. I wasn't sure I could ride a bike at my size, and in fact was pretty convinced that I couldn't. But I really wanted to try, so we bought the sturdiest bikes Walmart had to offer (the second cheapest as it turns out - the more expensive bikes have more "springs" and such that can break, so cheaper was actually better - besides we didn't want to spend alot on bikes we might not be able to ride).

The first attempt was a disaster. The gel seat on the bike wasn't big enough, so after a 5 or 10 minute bike ride, I was in so much pain (as my husband referred to it when I explained where I was hurting - that I'd been sexually assaulted by a bicycle - and the joke wasn't too far off). When I was brave enough to try again (with the biggest gel seat, Walmart sold) it was a much better experience.

I was so proud of that 10 minute bike ride, even though my legs felt like cooked spaghetti when I got back to the apartment.

With hubby's joint disease and diabetic neuropathy progressing to the point that he can't ride anymore (he doesn't have the balance, and it hurts his knees way too much) I've lost alot of the motivation to ride. Although I felt like everyone in the neighborhood was staring at our giant fat selves, I felt safe with him riding next to me. I have to get over that, because the bike represents such an accomplishment for me.

Being overweight since kindergarten, and morbidly obese since puberty (with the exception of a year or two in high school with diet pills), I've had an irrational fear of sports of any kind. I chalk it up to evil gym teachers (in grade school and junior high) and a mother who always told me I "looked ridiculous" climbing on the monkey bars or doing anything active as a child. Well, anything active that she thought I could get hurt on (I now realize). I SO wanted to go horseback riding with my girl scout troup, but every time it came up, my mom found a way to keep me from going. Mostly telling me how I would sway back the horse. The last time, I was determined to go, despite her comments, and the night before my mom decided that the family was going to the Great America amusement park, so I had to decide horseback riding or Great America. I chose Great America (and ended up quitting girl scouts soon after).

I've always avoided all sports activities because fat girls are "supposed to." With the exception of swimming. Oh, I loved swimming so much, even though I knew I wasn't supposed to. I didn't even mind so much when people called me "whale" because that's what I wanted to be in the water - a whale or a dolphin.

I'm finally leaning that my fat doesn't have to hold me back any further than it has to hold me back. What I mean is that I may have to face limitations because of the fat on my body, but I'm trying not to let the fat in my head hold me back.

Kaplods -- Your story made me cry :(. I have a 9 year old son who is 5 foot 2 inches tall and 113 pounds -- he's not seriously overweight but I get so upset every time I see him struggle to keep up with his friends. To make his challenges worse, he has Dyspraxia (poor motor control) so he has trouble just putting the steps together to accomplish some of the simplier physical tasks. He, at this point, is physically unable to ride a bike -- he has been so tall/big for so long, by the time age-wise he would be able to do certain things, body-wise he was just too big and bulky to accomplish it. God bless his heart, the poor kid tries it all!!! I am just praying his friends continue to be patient with him and cringe every time he is teased by members on his team that don't know his gentle heart and make fun of his efforts to play.

Sometimes it's so easy to crush a spirit, and yet nothing is as strong as a resilient spirit. It sounds like your son has one. Though learning to bend not break, is tough, and it has to be tough as a mother to watch. It's why I cut my mom a lot of slack, I think she was so desperate to protect me from the cruel world, she sometimes resorted to cruelty in order to do it. Misguided, but fear makes people do crazy, stupid things. Now the gym teachers - they had no excuse they were just sadistic.