I write a lot about my weight and physical status because it’s constantly on my mind. Not sometimes. Constantly. My main crutch/excuse is always being tired from always being busy due to my work/parent/coaching schedule. I barely eat during the day but at night I’m too tired to gym and suddenly starving. They’re excuses. I know this because I have broken this crutch cycle a few times. I’m not stuck being overweight. I’m not afflicted by it. And before I go any further this is my own personal reality. It’s not based on any social media pressure to look a certain way. People can look however they want to and if they’re happy chiseled, chubby, fluffy, scrawny, or whatever adjectives which can be twisted into insults as easily as compliments depending on perspective and intention.
This slice sprung from my going to the gym today and seeing they were finally doing this 6 week weight loss contest at my gym starting May 1st. I have done this multiple times in the past and have won each time except for one where I came in second. It comes with some supplements and gym paraphernalia and 6 months free gym dues. But it seems to be the only thing lately that works for me. Psychologically there’s something easily unpacked in there, I’m sure. Ego, narcissism, attention – whatever.
I cracked the code long ago. When I am happy and secure I get fat. That’s it. We grew up poor but unaware and I was mostly chubby but very happy. As time went on I became the hopeless romantic stereotypical gay best friend, despite being hetero, for all the girls in my group – most of which I was probably actually “in love” with at some point. We moved just before my senior year and I got skinny without knowing it. I made fast friends and had a good time but part of me was sad and missing my friends. I moved back home soon after high school. Girls liked me better skinny. Dudes seemed to respect me more. I came home and got happy and slightly chubby and went back into my role of friendzoning with everyone for the most part. I ate myself out of a marriage. Crutches in full-force. Stay at home dad, going from also managing a bar at night to full time college student. Exhaustion personified. During that time the only time I was able, or even fully tried, to lose weight was for my wedding. That seemed important. But after that I began the long journey to absolutely blowing up physically.
I lost 70 pounds in under 3 months when the big D came around and wasn’t really aware until I found out our neighbors were asking if the pall cast across the street and weight loss perhaps came with some critical diagnosis or other, which I guess it kind of did, just not medically. In the years that followed I worked. I was a gym guy. There are pictures of me at a weight I never thought I’d reach and girls who flat out turned me down a year previous were suddenly, sometimes overwhelmingly, interested. In retrospect I’m ashamed to say some of my dating proclivities and cycles during that time were fueled by revenge, partially for those early dating times rejections, probably mostly about my marriage. I was so caught up during that time in being “perfect” physically that I wasn’t nefarious about it – I honestly just wasn’t reflecting on anything then. To reflect on anything then was way too scary.
I’ve been big again now for a while. I got tenure, my master’s degree, and a steady girl – all of which has allowed me the biggest new thing that allows my cycle of chub to continue – hope. I’m happy for the most part. And yes, still, very busy and tired. Life is about continual evolution and I believe I can do well in this contest come May 1st. I know I feel better, and more secure, about my life when I am in good shape. The next step in my evolution, then, will be to remain happy on all levels and toss these crutches back to the past where they never belonged in the first place.