Tuesday, January 1, 2013

The Lard (hard) and Blobby Truth

So, I just found those last two posts floating around form when I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would write on this blog. Those days when I would hunt around the Internet for an hour or more to find the right picture to illustrate my point. When I would think of witty retorts to my own adventure to make it seem interesting or enlightening.


The truth is, since I've started this blog in September of 2010 (two and a half years ago), I've done nothing but morph into a fatter version of the fat man that was represented in the earlier posts. And yet, nothing I said in my first post was inaccurate. Everything I felt and everything I hated back then about being Fat, I hate even more today. Since that time, I've gained at least twenty pounds and have struggled to maintain my weight. I have struggled to find clothes that fit me. I have been embarrassed in social situations and have engaged in the death spiral—TV depression = food consumption = lethargy = TV and Depression = Food = Lethargy!

Perhaps the lowest moment was when I went to go give blood. I sat down in the chair, filled out all of the paper work and then was ready to have them start giving blood. But you know what happened? They couldn't find any veins. They said, "I'm sorry I just can't find any veins, maybe you should be drinking more water and working out more." And that was it. I was rejected from giving blood.


The reality is, there are many different kinds of fat. There are moderately fat—too fat to feel good about yourself, but not so fat that you can't do things; obese fat—you have reached the size of an undomesticated beast; and it's just enough fat—you can't move or do what you would want to do. The sad thing is, once you move past the continuum, it becomes harder and harder to hide that your fight.

If you've had weight problems you've learned all the tricks. Wear stiff starched shirts that don't have a lot of give so that it covers your unnaturally plump curves; wear an undershirt to act as a buffer between your clothes and the outside layer of fat; wear stripes and other eye fooling shirtwear. And yet, at some point you just can't escape it. Your belly hangs over your pants, down your sides and you can't hide to the world that you are fat. You can't hide your shame. And so you go out into public begrudgingly.

But I'm tired. I'm tired of overeating. I'm tired of being lethargic. I know this echoes much earlier posts from two years ago, but what I said then is equally true today.

As I mentioned in my New Year's Resolution post, this year is about moving more and getting fitter. It's about making some systematic changes that will result in a fitter, happier, and more mobile me.

While weight loss may very well be the goal. The reality of my journey is that it is about looking and feeling good. So while I may have failed at running and eating healthy, I now have some tools and (hopefully) the will power to make some real, transformative change that will allow me to be a better, stronger, and healthier person.

And with that I have a new Mission.

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