The Good Fight Begins
I am going to tell you a secret.
I let myself go.
The way it all played out was one part accident, one part conscious choice and one part rebellion. Maybe there were even other factors that contributed to the entire journey; but, right now, it feels like accident - choice - rebellion. We will have to peel back the onion to see what else lies beneath.
Most people know about the weight yo-yo that I have ridden in my life. Skinny little boy, fat teenager, fit teenager, athlete, fat man, fit man, body builder ... whatever. It has been a yo-yo. I have not, successfully, managed to find absolute balance in my life, where my body and mind meet. I do, in fact, come from a family of over eaters. I cannot write about their experiences, cannot tell their stories. What I can do is tell what I have seen.
My mother's mother was never, in my life, at a weight that (looking back) I consider healthy. My mother has, since the birth of her fourth and final child, battled eating and weight issues. My sister (who, in her youth, had a bangin' body) has a similar story but less extreme. Both my brothers have carried extra weight over the years, as has my father. Only my maternal grandfather seems to have lived his life at a healthy height-weight proportion. My father is lucky in that he has the focus and drive to take off weight, once gained; I mean, let's face it - unless you are Jack LaLanne or Ray Scalvino (my trainer), most people will put on a few pounds in their lives - whenever my dad has done that, he has shaken it off and lost it again (and, by the way, I do not include my father's family tree in my little history because Daddy was adopted and I do think genetics plays a role in these things). And there are some members of my family in the generation that is following my own, who are having weight issues. Clearly, it is a familial trait.
Now. Here is the good news: my mother recently lost 30 pounds. My brother is on a push to live a healthier lifestyle and is exercising and eating properly. My father is currently at a healthy height/weight proportion. (I haven't seen my sister in awhile, so I am unsure about her status.) Everyone is doing what they can to beat the demon fat cell.
To that end, I have had to put myself on a diet and seek out new forms of exercise.
In December I got married. It was the first of several weddings that took place for me and Pat, as we worked our way through the filming of our movie, Married and Counting ( www.marriedandcounting.com ). There was a lot wedding cake... a lot of road trip food... a lot of celebrating. I have no one to blame but myself. I am the one who raised the fork to my mouth. I am, also, the one who dialed back my workout regimen to accommodate a life filled with activity, travel, work and play. There were major changes in my life during the last year and, regrettably, my workout was the sacrifice. I lost muscle mass and I gained fat; I lost definition and I gained girth.
I let myself go.
I'm not really big on the blame game. I am, though, really into accountability. So I say to myself, get back on the horse, kid. I'm not really big on complaining about situational factors. I am, though, really into seeing clearly. So I acknowledge my age (47) and my limitations (bad back, bad joints) and I work with them. Don't get me wrong - I have moments (sometimes days even) when I ride the self pity wave regarding blame and pain; but you have to shake that shit off and keep moving. Be Bourne; that's my peronsonal motto.
So I went on Groupon and Living Social and began spending little bits of money so that I can get back to where I once belonged. I bought a couple of bootcamp classes, some pilates classes, some yoga classes, some fight training classes and a lot of massages. I never spend more than 40 dollars and I take it all very seriously.
I also went to my first Overeaters Anonymous meeting. The time had come to confront the eating disorder with which I have struggled for a long time; I have admitted, for years, that I have an eating disorder. I had never, actively, dealt with it. But now I would.
Over the next few days and weeks, I will be sharing some of my experiences in my blog. To do so, I have to admit that I am not Superman; that I am deeply flawed, that I have emotions. None of these are things I admit, readily or happily; but I must, in order to change and grow into the man I have, long, wished I could be. I am, fiercely, angry and nervous about it - all of it; the journey and the sharing of the journey. I have to do it, though. Otherwise, what good is this life? I mean, really; what good is it? Without the challenge of living and the sharing of the lessons I learn while on this tiny planet, what is the point of being here? That is the task I have set myself. So.
Let's make a start; shall we?