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A college weight gain adventure, featuring two naive runners who think they have the willpower to overcome the dreaded freshman 15, but shortly realize they are gravely mistaken.
JUNIOR YEAR
“How, *huff, much, *groan, farther?” Chad moaned as his paws fell heavily on the pavement. His legs felt like lead forcing the feline to grunt as he struggled to lift them before letting them simply plop back down to earth a foot forward on the sidewalk. The technique was a far stretch from the active leg cycling he had trained to do much of his life. Well, trained until a few years ago.
“Just ano… *huff, anoth… *grunt, another lap around the block,” Toby called over his shoulder.
“You said that *grunt, three blocks ago,” Chad muttered under his breath. His thighs burned deeper than the feline ever thought they had before while his lungs struggled to suck in the crisp early fall air. He hated this. He wasn’t having fun and part of him wondered how he had had fun doing this for some many years though he was well aware of what that answer was: running itself had grown more difficult.
As the cheetah wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, he remembered back to when Toby had begun to point out the fact that the feline wasn’t looking as spry as he once had. It kind of a came as a shock to the feline, who had spent his whole life as thin as a rail without giving a second thought to his physique; perhaps it was the hubris of a great metabolism and an active sporting high school career? He had never worried much about what he ate or anything like that growing up, simply eating because food tasted good and once he got to college he could finally indulge in all of his favorites without having his parents, specifically his mother, trying to force all of that Brussel sprouts and whole grain nonsense down his throat. At Tallow, he didn’t get scolded if he ate pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he could go days without drinking a glass of water, instead, relying on the far superior carbonated beverages that had once been just a treat in his household growing up.
Chad grunted as he felt his legs starting to wobble, his muscles seemingly turning into jelly as they decided on their own that it was time to stop; they couldn’t handle the beating any longer. Chad came to a stumbling stop, immediately hunching over at the knees to catch his breath but even that seemed to strain his burning thighs. Huffing, he leaned against a street sign jutting out of the sidewalk. Once he felt that support he leaned his entire weight against it, trying to relieve his legs as much as possible. He was so tired and sweaty that he barely noticed that the sign began to bend under the pressure, the flimsy iron bar designed to hold up a No Parking sign and not the hefty weight of an out of shape cheetah. Chad wiped his brow and tried to catch his breath. He glanced down and saw the cause of his running struggles: a thick, pale-furred gut jutting out from beneath his running shirt. As he looked he could feel soft flesh compressing along his neck and up against his chin, as well as the subtle bumps of spotted fur starting to peak up in the bottom of his periphery: his soft cheeks.
The cheetah felt like he should have seen all of this weight coming, that he should have known that eating at the Grille ten times a week was going to add those extra inches to his bulbous calves, rounded his hips, and plumped up his soft rear. He should have known that he would outgrow much of the size small clothing he had brought to college over two years ago and taken the hint when last year he had gone up a size and this year, just a month ago, he had gone up another two sizes for his back to school clothes shopping.
He should have noticed that heavy, lethargic feeling he felt while simply walking around his dorm or campus was not just the result of a lack of sleep but all those extra pounds caking onto his neglected muscles. He should have taken the hint when the other aspiring artists in his fraternity had started calling him Big Spots not just because of his signature style during their abstract themed painting nights. Chad knew he should have realized he was getting fat. The process, the weight gain, had just been so subtle. It had seemingly crept up on not just him, but Toby too.
As the feline caught his breath, Chad watched as Toby ran ahead of him, well, plodded ahead of him. His once athletic friend was now anything but. A thick plump rear jutted out his backside, merging slightly with a pair of thick haunches and a rounded side that was lined with engorged love handles. The bunny’s own shirt rode up his beach ball sized gut, exposing to the world the mound of lard-incarnate as it jolted up and down with each of the bunny’s stomping steps. Chad watched the series of ripples cascade across Toby’s frame as his weight fell hard on each of his paws, causing a set of moobs jutting out of his chest to bounce, his jello-like triceps and shoulders to wobble, and the jowls jutting out the side of his face to jiggle. The bunny was easily twice, if not more, as wide as he once was and likely weighed the same, if not more.
Chad knew he should have noticed Toby packing on the pounds, but when he saw the bunny each and every day, it was hard to notice a new extra pound here and there, the image of the bunny constantly updating in his mind until Toby had started mentioning feeling bloated and clumsy in the middle of their sophomore year. Chad had initially brushed those thoughts away, not wanting to recognize the fact that he too had started to feel weighed down seemingly by his own body, but as the weeks and months had progressed, Toby had started mentioning more and more about tight clothes and the fact that neither of them had stepped foot in the new gym that had opened up at the start of the year.
Finally, one day in the middle of the summer when the two of them had been gorging on a pair of pizzas a piece, Toby had come right out and said it: they were both fat. Beyond the freshman-fifteen kind of fat: they were obese. It was that moment that shattered the veil of denial for the cheetah and he noticed just how broad and looming his roommate had become, the towering bunny now seemingly blotting out the sun and the world when they stood next to each other with his bulbous girth: a mountain of rabbit pudge.
It had been Toby that had suggested they start running again, an idea that Chad, in retrospect, thought he probably should have been the one to float. Why hadn’t he? He had always been the more active one of the two and had always been the one dragging Toby into shenanigans and ventures, not the other way around; it was an odd change of pace. They had started running regularly just last week and though Chad intuitively knew that it was going to be difficult, having not run for over two years, he had grossly underestimated just how of shape he had gotten. He had always been the hyperactive one in high school, jumping at the bit to get up and move about, but now he didn’t want that. All he wanted to do, the second he started running, was sit. In fact, in recent months he had started to avoid walking as much as he could. He just felt so slow, heavy, and tired, like his once sporadic, though passionate focus, had been subdued by his recent greasy indulgences and dedication to his art. He didn’t want to run a 1500m race anymore, he wanted to grab some chicken nuggets and paint a sunset mountain scene!
Chad knew that he should keep up with his running, despite the seemingly lack of progress in his fitness over the last fourteen days, but a louder part of him simply didn’t want to. A part of him didn’t want to put his body through such agonizing hardship that was a simple two-mile run around campus. A part of him wondered why he even needed to in the first place. A part of him wondered just what was so bad about a few extra pounds on his waist anyway. A part of him kind of liked the f… Chad noticed Toby slowing to a stop just up the street from him, Chad figured this was his chance to catch back up and despite all the warning signs in his mind, he pushed off the signpost and half jogged, half stumbled up to the bunny.
Toby was wheezing louder than he had ever heard the bunny wheeze, like the act of simply catching his breath, was in it of itself making him out of breath. Chad put a reassuring hand on Toby’s back.
“You good, dude?” Chad huffed.
“Yeah, *huff, I just need a, *grunt, sec,” Toby said, resting his hands on his knees, a difficult task as his stomach pressed heavily against his thighs and mold around the contours of his arms as it bulged forward and down toward the pavement below; a victim to the will of gravity.
“I think we’ve ran enough for today,” Chad said. Toby glanced down at his phone and saw that the two had barely run a mile, even less than they had run just two days ago. Toby wanted to protest, to encourage the two of them to get at least another half a mile in, but the burning of his legs convinced him otherwise. He was exhaust. Hot and exhausted.
“Yeah,” Toby said. “You’re probably right. Besides, I need to read two chapters before class tomorrow…”
“Same,” Chad said.
“Want to try the Wayside Forest route on Thursday?” Toby asked.
“I can’t, I have a meeting with my advisor and a fundraiser for Alpha Rho Tau in the afternoon. How about Friday?”
“I have my TA office hours and my thermodynamics lab then,” Toby said. “Saturday?”
“We’re going apple picking with the guys, remember?” Chad said.
“Yeah,” Toby sighed, “you’re right.”
“Don’t worry, dude,” Chad said, helping Toby up as the two began to walk back to their dorm. “We’ll find time.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Toby said, despite how empty that promise felt. The bunny immediately scolded himself as he tried to squash that sense of uncertainty in his mind: Of course they would find a time! It’d be just like when they were in high school. So what if they were starting to get busier now that the school was getting into full swing? They could still find time to run... no, they WOULD find a time to run! Exercise was important to them, even if they had neglected it for the last two years, right? They could break that lethargic habit, right? Of course, because they were motivated! They could do this!
Still, as thoughts swirled around Toby tired mind, he still couldn’t shake that nagging feeling from deep within his gut that poked through that mindset:
Doubt.
You can find Tony’s amazing story in its entirety here: Growing Up Story PDF
Author: 
plokishmok3 | Illustrator: 
Kygen 
plokishmok3
Kygen<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
JUNIOR YEAR
“How, *huff, much, *groan, farther?” Chad moaned as his paws fell heavily on the pavement. His legs felt like lead forcing the feline to grunt as he struggled to lift them before letting them simply plop back down to earth a foot forward on the sidewalk. The technique was a far stretch from the active leg cycling he had trained to do much of his life. Well, trained until a few years ago.
“Just ano… *huff, anoth… *grunt, another lap around the block,” Toby called over his shoulder.
“You said that *grunt, three blocks ago,” Chad muttered under his breath. His thighs burned deeper than the feline ever thought they had before while his lungs struggled to suck in the crisp early fall air. He hated this. He wasn’t having fun and part of him wondered how he had had fun doing this for some many years though he was well aware of what that answer was: running itself had grown more difficult.
As the cheetah wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, he remembered back to when Toby had begun to point out the fact that the feline wasn’t looking as spry as he once had. It kind of a came as a shock to the feline, who had spent his whole life as thin as a rail without giving a second thought to his physique; perhaps it was the hubris of a great metabolism and an active sporting high school career? He had never worried much about what he ate or anything like that growing up, simply eating because food tasted good and once he got to college he could finally indulge in all of his favorites without having his parents, specifically his mother, trying to force all of that Brussel sprouts and whole grain nonsense down his throat. At Tallow, he didn’t get scolded if he ate pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he could go days without drinking a glass of water, instead, relying on the far superior carbonated beverages that had once been just a treat in his household growing up.
Chad grunted as he felt his legs starting to wobble, his muscles seemingly turning into jelly as they decided on their own that it was time to stop; they couldn’t handle the beating any longer. Chad came to a stumbling stop, immediately hunching over at the knees to catch his breath but even that seemed to strain his burning thighs. Huffing, he leaned against a street sign jutting out of the sidewalk. Once he felt that support he leaned his entire weight against it, trying to relieve his legs as much as possible. He was so tired and sweaty that he barely noticed that the sign began to bend under the pressure, the flimsy iron bar designed to hold up a No Parking sign and not the hefty weight of an out of shape cheetah. Chad wiped his brow and tried to catch his breath. He glanced down and saw the cause of his running struggles: a thick, pale-furred gut jutting out from beneath his running shirt. As he looked he could feel soft flesh compressing along his neck and up against his chin, as well as the subtle bumps of spotted fur starting to peak up in the bottom of his periphery: his soft cheeks.
The cheetah felt like he should have seen all of this weight coming, that he should have known that eating at the Grille ten times a week was going to add those extra inches to his bulbous calves, rounded his hips, and plumped up his soft rear. He should have known that he would outgrow much of the size small clothing he had brought to college over two years ago and taken the hint when last year he had gone up a size and this year, just a month ago, he had gone up another two sizes for his back to school clothes shopping.
He should have noticed that heavy, lethargic feeling he felt while simply walking around his dorm or campus was not just the result of a lack of sleep but all those extra pounds caking onto his neglected muscles. He should have taken the hint when the other aspiring artists in his fraternity had started calling him Big Spots not just because of his signature style during their abstract themed painting nights. Chad knew he should have realized he was getting fat. The process, the weight gain, had just been so subtle. It had seemingly crept up on not just him, but Toby too.
As the feline caught his breath, Chad watched as Toby ran ahead of him, well, plodded ahead of him. His once athletic friend was now anything but. A thick plump rear jutted out his backside, merging slightly with a pair of thick haunches and a rounded side that was lined with engorged love handles. The bunny’s own shirt rode up his beach ball sized gut, exposing to the world the mound of lard-incarnate as it jolted up and down with each of the bunny’s stomping steps. Chad watched the series of ripples cascade across Toby’s frame as his weight fell hard on each of his paws, causing a set of moobs jutting out of his chest to bounce, his jello-like triceps and shoulders to wobble, and the jowls jutting out the side of his face to jiggle. The bunny was easily twice, if not more, as wide as he once was and likely weighed the same, if not more.
Chad knew he should have noticed Toby packing on the pounds, but when he saw the bunny each and every day, it was hard to notice a new extra pound here and there, the image of the bunny constantly updating in his mind until Toby had started mentioning feeling bloated and clumsy in the middle of their sophomore year. Chad had initially brushed those thoughts away, not wanting to recognize the fact that he too had started to feel weighed down seemingly by his own body, but as the weeks and months had progressed, Toby had started mentioning more and more about tight clothes and the fact that neither of them had stepped foot in the new gym that had opened up at the start of the year.
Finally, one day in the middle of the summer when the two of them had been gorging on a pair of pizzas a piece, Toby had come right out and said it: they were both fat. Beyond the freshman-fifteen kind of fat: they were obese. It was that moment that shattered the veil of denial for the cheetah and he noticed just how broad and looming his roommate had become, the towering bunny now seemingly blotting out the sun and the world when they stood next to each other with his bulbous girth: a mountain of rabbit pudge.
It had been Toby that had suggested they start running again, an idea that Chad, in retrospect, thought he probably should have been the one to float. Why hadn’t he? He had always been the more active one of the two and had always been the one dragging Toby into shenanigans and ventures, not the other way around; it was an odd change of pace. They had started running regularly just last week and though Chad intuitively knew that it was going to be difficult, having not run for over two years, he had grossly underestimated just how of shape he had gotten. He had always been the hyperactive one in high school, jumping at the bit to get up and move about, but now he didn’t want that. All he wanted to do, the second he started running, was sit. In fact, in recent months he had started to avoid walking as much as he could. He just felt so slow, heavy, and tired, like his once sporadic, though passionate focus, had been subdued by his recent greasy indulgences and dedication to his art. He didn’t want to run a 1500m race anymore, he wanted to grab some chicken nuggets and paint a sunset mountain scene!
Chad knew that he should keep up with his running, despite the seemingly lack of progress in his fitness over the last fourteen days, but a louder part of him simply didn’t want to. A part of him didn’t want to put his body through such agonizing hardship that was a simple two-mile run around campus. A part of him wondered why he even needed to in the first place. A part of him wondered just what was so bad about a few extra pounds on his waist anyway. A part of him kind of liked the f… Chad noticed Toby slowing to a stop just up the street from him, Chad figured this was his chance to catch back up and despite all the warning signs in his mind, he pushed off the signpost and half jogged, half stumbled up to the bunny.
Toby was wheezing louder than he had ever heard the bunny wheeze, like the act of simply catching his breath, was in it of itself making him out of breath. Chad put a reassuring hand on Toby’s back.
“You good, dude?” Chad huffed.
“Yeah, *huff, I just need a, *grunt, sec,” Toby said, resting his hands on his knees, a difficult task as his stomach pressed heavily against his thighs and mold around the contours of his arms as it bulged forward and down toward the pavement below; a victim to the will of gravity.
“I think we’ve ran enough for today,” Chad said. Toby glanced down at his phone and saw that the two had barely run a mile, even less than they had run just two days ago. Toby wanted to protest, to encourage the two of them to get at least another half a mile in, but the burning of his legs convinced him otherwise. He was exhaust. Hot and exhausted.
“Yeah,” Toby said. “You’re probably right. Besides, I need to read two chapters before class tomorrow…”
“Same,” Chad said.
“Want to try the Wayside Forest route on Thursday?” Toby asked.
“I can’t, I have a meeting with my advisor and a fundraiser for Alpha Rho Tau in the afternoon. How about Friday?”
“I have my TA office hours and my thermodynamics lab then,” Toby said. “Saturday?”
“We’re going apple picking with the guys, remember?” Chad said.
“Yeah,” Toby sighed, “you’re right.”
“Don’t worry, dude,” Chad said, helping Toby up as the two began to walk back to their dorm. “We’ll find time.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Toby said, despite how empty that promise felt. The bunny immediately scolded himself as he tried to squash that sense of uncertainty in his mind: Of course they would find a time! It’d be just like when they were in high school. So what if they were starting to get busier now that the school was getting into full swing? They could still find time to run... no, they WOULD find a time to run! Exercise was important to them, even if they had neglected it for the last two years, right? They could break that lethargic habit, right? Of course, because they were motivated! They could do this!
Still, as thoughts swirled around Toby tired mind, he still couldn’t shake that nagging feeling from deep within his gut that poked through that mindset:
Doubt.
~~~~~
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>> You can find Tony’s amazing story in its entirety here: Growing Up Story PDF
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 1024px
File Size 189.2 kB
Listed in Folders
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