Here's what you're missing:
It’s about that guy you always see on the far treadmill at the gym.
Not "the treadmill." The far treadmill. The one away from everybody else, self-shunning to save everyone else from the trouble.
Or the lady who brings the most beautiful salads to work every day for lunch.
Not "beautiful salads." "The most beautiful salads." The ones that reflect painstaking, obsessive care, the objects of focus, the most important part of the day that serves triple duty as the high point of the work day, the ward against being invited to Cheesecake Factory for lunch (2700 calories in them nachos) and the virtue signaling of "yes I know I'm fat I'm working hard to do something about it please don't judge me for what I'm eating."
You're making her point, really - you read "guy on the treadmill" and "lady that brings beautiful salads" and completely missed the obsessive qualifiers that fat people live in so that you completely miss them.