We've accepted our super-fatness.
In May of 2011 I walked to the local hospital to visit my father. There was no sidewalk along the street leading there. There were several dirt paths heading into the campus, worn by pedestrians, adapted to the fact that walking to the facility was not a sanctioned activity.
We can't even walk to the hospital where we're told that regular exercise is important.
Inside, while Mom and I were waiting for nurses to approve our visit to Dad's room, a young woman carefully pushed out of an elevator a wheelchair filled with a woman who must have been her mom a woman so fat that she barely fit. The wheelchair was sized to fit through the elevator doors.
Her massive blob of heft was at the upper limit of blubber that one can accumulate without losing access to medical attention.