Found out how having a 29.3 BMI would feel. Spoiler alert; it was terrible. So I'm 5'11, 140lbs usually. 19.5 BMI, very nice.  I am backpacking at the moment, and have less than a week before I go home (I have been away for a year). I am done all my Christmas shopping, which, added to the weight of my usual backpack, adds up to about 50% of my own body weight. I carry everything in a 110 litre backpack, a small rucksack with room for my laptop, a sweater, some books and a towel, and the rest, mostly the clothes that the presents have kicked out of the backpack, are now in a duffel bag. Three bags pack to the brim with about 70lbs of assorted shit. With all my gear on, I go from 140 to about 210lbs. A 29.3 BMI, if you imagined all that extra luggage was fat from eating too much, which sadly is an extremely common scenario these days (and technically, just UNDER obesity which we know effects ~34% of the USA). Now, I have said it before but I'll mention it again, I have cundishuns in which my geneticks dictate that my right ventricle will convert itself into a fatty fibrous tissue over time, causing weakening and enlargement and ultimately heart failiure unless I prevent the heart from undergoing stress i.e. I am meant to avoid cardio when at all possible. Sounds counter-productive, but thats cardiomyopathies for you. This will preserve my heart's current quality, so long as I do give it some very light exercise daily. However, this also makes working out slow and difficult, and while my muscle structure is improving every day with slow weight lifting and my lung capacity is slowly increasing with singing, my general stamina will always be at an all time low. Don't feel bad, I can just take longer to do the same great hikes and trails as the rest of you, it will never be enough to stop me from moving. It does mean, however, that suddenly adding 50% of my own bodyweight to my heart's workload is extra shitty when compared to a healthier person. Lucky for me, buses exist so I don't usually have to walk my things around but yesterday I decided to save money on transport and walk the 30 minutes from my hostel to a nice little R&R hotel on the other side of a charming, vast park. And oh my god, my body sure suffered under the weight. Shin splints by the time I got to the hotel, ankles and knees hurt like a bitch. Heart rate was through the roof, chest too heavy with junk to get a proper lungful so breaths were shallow. I had to take wider steps, not quite a waddle but getting close, to not topple over from the imbalance. My poor back, it's a good thing the backpack is so good because it transfers almost all the weight to my hips (which began clicking) so my back was mostly weighed down by the duffel and rucksack. I opted to walk on the grass rather than the paved trail just for the extra shock absorption.  I felt awful for my joints and my bones and my heart and lungs. How can people LIVE like this? EVERY DAY?? What kind of retard feels that pain and feels their organs straining and thinks "I can't be bothered to make it better for myself"??  Just tolerating it I can't fathom. And worse... trying to convince yourself that you actually enjoy it? That you'd rather have a "short happy" life than a "long policed" life? When that short life is full of pain and physical repression and perpetual exhaustion, how could anyone think that's happiness? To feel your body straining and failing with every step and being unable to go for a fucking walk without discomfort? What the fuck. And my last wtf moment; the only thing I could think about during that walk (aside the gorgeous day, my terrible pack strap tanlines, and some very rambunctious ducks) was "my already bad heart is gonna have a bad time, I should be more careful about this." And yet how many dumb fatties have I seen with some kind of health condition that their weight is actively worsening? Diabetes, clogged arteries, joint wear, apneas, organ failure. And yet none of them, NONE of them see a problem with it.  It's like you're driving down a highway, your engine overheats and steam starts pouring out from under the hood, and instead of pulling over to get a tow in order to get some work done and save your vehicle so you can keep driving it for years to come, you just think "nah, why get to my destination tomorrow when I could get a few more yards today instead and end my trip early on the side of this desert highway, missing out on the next half of my life altogether?" Now luckily for me, my weight was able to be removed the moment I got to my room, and none of it had spent time wrapped around my liver or heart or lungs or intestines to strangle me out from the inside, but just feeling what that kind of weight would be like for me was fucking eye opening. Not that I needed any more motivation to not get fat, but fuck, feeling an alternate future of gluttony sure would have snapped me out of any nasty habits had that not been the case.