Some might call me a little obesessive, but I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.
If I do something, I try to do it well. Work, play, serious, silly, it doesn’t matter. I think everyone should find out what they’re good at it in life and become the absolute best at it. That doesn’t mean you don’t try new things, that simply means whatever you try you do so wholeheartedly.
While it doesn’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things, I try to be the best I can be at softball. I don’t like to miss practice, I read as much as I can about techniques/strategies when playing my position, and finally I make sure I’m equipped with the tools I need to do my job when I show up to do it.
Softball isn’t so serious, but I still give it my all. Some things do require more serious attention, though.
I’m not happy with my body. I’m not. It may sound ungrateful after accomplishing something so many others would like to already, but I worked hard to lose this weight and wasn’t handed anything. There’s nothing wrong with demanding and expecting more. I worked to lose the first 144 pounds and I’ll have to work even harder to earn anything that comes after it.
I’ve given up a lot of the foods I ate just a few weeks ago. I’m eating a lot more protein, a good amount of carbs, and healthy fats. I want to build a lot of muscles. I want biceps that look like they’re suffocating. I’m making a plan (which I’ll share!) to build a body I can feel proud of revealing at the beach. I feel and look deflated right now, weighing less but still with a lot of body fat.
That’s all going to change.
I’m not going to just try my best and hope it all works out. I’m carefully and methodically plotting to make sure everything I do in the kitchen and gym puts me closer to reaching my end goals. No junk food binges on the weekend. No days in the gym where I’m on “cruise control.”
I’m prepared to work for the next year to build something amazing.
I’m going to bring everything. Will you?
Here you go.
Pictures of me at 344 pounds like this one are rare. I avoided cameras like the plague, those scary little devices that make you face what you’ve become.
Back then I would’ve done anything to dart out of that picture (as you can tell by my face). Starting with tomorrow’s weigh-in, I will start posting videos showing my entire body in different poses/flexes. With these new videos we will be able to start closely watching for the next set of changes with my body.
I’m excited about where this journey is heading. How about you?
I’m enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning.
I’ve had the house to myself this weekend, the wife being out of town to attend my sister’s wedding shower. I’m cleaning the house and getting ready to head out to lunch and softball practice shortly afterward. While running around the house I’ve got my music blasting (as always) and I came to a stop when I heard Red Hot Chili Peppers come over the speakers.
Specifically, a song by them called “Otherside.”
I initially came to a stop because I was going to change the playlist — if you’ve heard Otherside, you know it’s a slow melody, not something that is upbeat and will keep you moving. But once I stopped, I heard the first lines and it struck a chord with me, pun intended.
“How long will I slide?”
I was eating with my family a few days ago at sandwich shop we regular and I saw a guy sitting alone at the counter. He weighed more than me at my biggest, probably at least 450 pounds and had a massive bowl of fries covered with chili and cheese in front of him. He also had a fork and a scowl on his face, quickly devouring this 4,000+ calorie “meal.”
I saw myself. It was extremely sad.
I didn’t have judgment for him, but hope. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to turn his stool (and his life) around, slap him in his face, and go “You CAN lose weight, just come with me!” I told my wife that I wanted to talk to him and she encouraged me to, but I didn’t. I just glanced up from my plate at him occasionally until he eventually finished his food and left. It’s not my place to say anything. I’m not a Jehovah’s Witness. I’m not qualified to say anything. Maybe he’s happy with his life and maybe I should just mind my own business. I’m a blogger, I’m not Richard Simmons.
I had plenty of excuses to tell myself so I’d feel better about not approaching him.
My wife and I talked about it a little after he left. I naively asked her why he couldn’t see what he was doing to himself — and she told me, coldly and matter of factly, “You didn’t.” She reminded me that I had the same unhealthy habits. I ate the same kind of food. I let my health slide into hell for 23 years until one January morning I woke up and realized that enough was enough. Cheese fries aren’t worth dying over.
This post blog is for the guy at the counter. I don’t know you, but I love you. I hope you find this one day and will read my journey. I was 344 pounds last January and later on today I’m going to play softball.
I’m one of the fastest players on the team.
