Extreme obesity

That sounds hot.

I might have to apply this in my next relationship.

In grade school and middle school we had to do the Canada Fitness Award testing each year. I've often fantasized of being taunted into seeing how well I could do at those six events now. (Flexed arm hang, sit ups, standing long jump, shuttle run, 50m dash, and a 2.4km endurance run). My worst result was in grade six when I only got a bronze -- could I perform even as well as my 12 year old self?

I suffered 6 years of doing this for the Presidential Medal of Fitness.

I couldn't pass. No male, other than like.. 2 or 3.. in our grade could.

Guys don't develop the upper-body strength to perform a single pull-up before puberty.

A yellow participant patch for me all through grade school.

Seriously? It took up like 4 weeks of gym classes we could've spent playing dodgeball. Or kickball. Or duck-duck-goose. Or running under a big falling parachute.

We had the "Flexed arm hang" instead of pull ups. Basically pull yourself up until your elbows are at 90 degrees, then hang on for as long as you can. A few of the fattest kids couldn't pull up that far but most could hang in for a bronze or silver, while some petite girls could easily hit gold. (for us each event scored bronze/silver/gold, to get an overall bronze you needed at least four bronzes, to get silver or gold you needed at least five at that level.)

I hit puberty early in grade six, then later that year I was the only boy in class to only get an overall bronze, and the teacher called us up in groups based on the award level. That was when I first had an inkling that there was something about being out of shape that excited me -- I was embarrassed and worked to make sure I got a gold the next year, but there was something else in how I felt that I couldn't quite name, but I knew it was dangerously exciting.

One of my first weight gain fantasies involved being fattened by someone who would also track the decline of my fitness level as my weight increased.

This is a delicious and delightful topic. I love the idea of recording his growing gains while I continue to work out and stay slim. Contrast and data are quite appealing.

I love being more out of breath the fatter I get. Being actually breathless just let's me know how fat I've gotten.

I used to be a sprinter and hurdler in school and represented the school in county long run tournaments as well.
Fast forward to now, and I haven’t left the house, aside from to buy essentials, in more weeks than I can count. Could I even make it over a hurdle?