I was logging on to SG and in the active groups area I saw "Big Cuddly Men" or something to that effect. So I joined it being a "Big Cuddly Man" and I found a post on "Embracing the Blub" or something to that effect. So I went in there and looked at it and I saw a group of people who struggle with the same monkey on their back that I have on mine. We are all big people. But when I started reading this post I went to offer a few pointers on how to lose and instead of doing that I ended up writing a fucking novel. Here it is:
The thing that I have found that helps in the area of weightloss is to have a nuclear fucking meltdown happen in your life. A complete causing of everything going to shit, or at least feeling like it. For me it happened on my 24th birthday. I woke up and realized that I hated my fucking life. Not because life sucks or because of this pent-up "teenage angst." I just woke up and realized that I did not like who I was going to become.
I was fast on the road to becoming a "statistical American." I weighed in at 330 lbs and my continuing girth did not seem to slow down at all. I think that a lot of us are seriously **encouraged** to eat when we are younger. I love to eat as much as the next guy but now I temper my love of food with resolve.
As a child I would receive the pat on the back or a pinch on the cheeks (no matter how much we scowled we all know that right now, we miss the pinch on the cheeks) and then always came the exclamation "Oh, mi ijo!! You are going to be a football player when you get older. Look how big you are!!" And I did become a football player. I weighed 265 my freshman year and had a 48 inch waist. Of course ,as most of us know, when someone carries around the weight of two people their same age they become as strong as a fucking ox. An immovable object. A rock of Gibraltar in a sea of pebbles. And we learn to accept it. Not because it is healthy or because it is aesthetically pleasing, but because we are accepted for being that large at such a young age. The flip side to this is that if the large person doesn't have the opportunity or the desire to play football, then they are perceived as a fat, lazy, slothish person. But eventually the football is no longer there. There are no more cheers. Just the weight. But we accept it. It is who we are and who we always will be. Until the day we wake up and realize that we are now 5'8" and 330 lbs. It is our 24th birthday and while there may be festivities later and the time for laughter will come soon enough, there is only right now and right now you are looking at someone who is in the race of people who are only referred to as "obese."
The American "culture" is one that condemns fat people to a life of shame and ridicule but at the same time it prides itself on it's steak houses that offer a free t-shirt for eating the "Ol' 96 Ouncer." We are a country of bigger, better, MORE; and we want everything at our fingertips when we want it and at our drive-thru windows when we order it.
This leads to a feeling of rejection when we don't lose our unwanted baggage as fast as we want to. I want to lose this gut and I want to lose it NOW!! But it doesn't work that way and that could probably the biggest reason why so many of us start a workout regimen and lose it just as quickly. We buy the cross-training sneakers and the gym shorts. The Gold Membership at the gym and the nifty sweatband to keep our eyes from burning. We all have dreams of grandeur and sweat a la' Flashdance. I'M SO EXCITED, AND I JUST CAN'T HIDE IT!
But then the excitement dies down.
My feet hurt.
This sweatband doesn't stop sweat for shit. It just holds it all in until it accumulates enough to drench my parched eyeballs with salt and stench.
This Gold membership gives me time with a personal trainer but it doesn't give him time to keep his eyes on me and not off that 18 year old ass that waves invitingly at him from the stairclimber.
The Gold plan doesn't stop everyone else in the gym from staring at me and snickering. Fear is the worst enemy for someone is trying to lose weight. We are afraid of the pain involved in losing weight. We are afraid of missing another episode of "Blind Date." We are afraid of missing a new girl posting on SG. But most of all we are afraid that we won't have the strength to carry through and that no matter how hard we work and no matter how little we eat, we will always stay the same.
I felt that same way. Then I had a nuclear fucking meltdown. The biggest kick in the ass. Instead of someone else pointing at my round tummy and laughing, I was tearing at my huge gut and crying. If I could have ripped off this tire surrounding my waist I would have. Skin, blood, and all.
But I can't do that so I did the next best thing. I went through my day at work and after work I walked into the gym and filled out a card and sat down with someone who looked at me and tried to juice me for as much money as possible because they've seen this all before. I'm the fat kid who woke up one day and said "I'm going to lose weight and I'm going to eat like a rabbit and I'm going to go the beach without leaving my shirt on. And in two months I'll stop coming to this gym because my weight has not miraculously fallen off." I could see it in his eyes. I was just another fat person who grew a wild hair in their ass and in a few weeks that hair would be gone along with my motivation. But what he didn't know was that I had a nuclear fucking meltdown.
I am Chernobyl incarnate and I have come for your women and children, motherfucker.
That basically started it the road to a healthier lifestyle. A year later I am 270 lbs and would be less if I hadn't almost broken my ankle at the gym playing raquetball. That kept me out of the gym for a good 4 months. Two of those months had me in an ankle brace. The other two were me trying to deal with the fear again. It will still come back and haunt like a bad mexican pizza but when it does remember that CODE RED nuclear fucking meltdown is your friend. If another episode of staring in a mirror and hating what you see is what it takes to accomplish it, then so be it. It is all worth it.
Being a thin person is not everyone's bag of chips. Some of us are content to be large and happy Some of us are happy to be in love with those of us who are large. Some of us could give a fuck less what we look like and how we are perceived. I applaud you because at this stage in my life, I can't accept myself like this anymore.
But I know that no matter how much wieght I lose I will always be a fat person. I can drop to a meager 10 percent bodyfat, but everytime I look in the mirror I will see the man of girth staring right back at me. That's what will keep me motivated. That and I do feel much better now. Where I used to struggle with a one mile jog/walk, I can now jog 5 miles and still have breath enough to allow me to open the door to my house. I can leg press 750 lbs. I still get the stares but when I do that it is normally the stare of "Oh my god, how in the fuck did he accomplish that?" And when I get the stares I glance back and everyone knows what I am thinking: I am Chernobyl incarnate and I have come for your women and children, motherfucker.
The thing that I have found that helps in the area of weightloss is to have a nuclear fucking meltdown happen in your life. A complete causing of everything going to shit, or at least feeling like it. For me it happened on my 24th birthday. I woke up and realized that I hated my fucking life. Not because life sucks or because of this pent-up "teenage angst." I just woke up and realized that I did not like who I was going to become.
I was fast on the road to becoming a "statistical American." I weighed in at 330 lbs and my continuing girth did not seem to slow down at all. I think that a lot of us are seriously **encouraged** to eat when we are younger. I love to eat as much as the next guy but now I temper my love of food with resolve.
As a child I would receive the pat on the back or a pinch on the cheeks (no matter how much we scowled we all know that right now, we miss the pinch on the cheeks) and then always came the exclamation "Oh, mi ijo!! You are going to be a football player when you get older. Look how big you are!!" And I did become a football player. I weighed 265 my freshman year and had a 48 inch waist. Of course ,as most of us know, when someone carries around the weight of two people their same age they become as strong as a fucking ox. An immovable object. A rock of Gibraltar in a sea of pebbles. And we learn to accept it. Not because it is healthy or because it is aesthetically pleasing, but because we are accepted for being that large at such a young age. The flip side to this is that if the large person doesn't have the opportunity or the desire to play football, then they are perceived as a fat, lazy, slothish person. But eventually the football is no longer there. There are no more cheers. Just the weight. But we accept it. It is who we are and who we always will be. Until the day we wake up and realize that we are now 5'8" and 330 lbs. It is our 24th birthday and while there may be festivities later and the time for laughter will come soon enough, there is only right now and right now you are looking at someone who is in the race of people who are only referred to as "obese."
The American "culture" is one that condemns fat people to a life of shame and ridicule but at the same time it prides itself on it's steak houses that offer a free t-shirt for eating the "Ol' 96 Ouncer." We are a country of bigger, better, MORE; and we want everything at our fingertips when we want it and at our drive-thru windows when we order it.
This leads to a feeling of rejection when we don't lose our unwanted baggage as fast as we want to. I want to lose this gut and I want to lose it NOW!! But it doesn't work that way and that could probably the biggest reason why so many of us start a workout regimen and lose it just as quickly. We buy the cross-training sneakers and the gym shorts. The Gold Membership at the gym and the nifty sweatband to keep our eyes from burning. We all have dreams of grandeur and sweat a la' Flashdance. I'M SO EXCITED, AND I JUST CAN'T HIDE IT!
But then the excitement dies down.
My feet hurt.
This sweatband doesn't stop sweat for shit. It just holds it all in until it accumulates enough to drench my parched eyeballs with salt and stench.
This Gold membership gives me time with a personal trainer but it doesn't give him time to keep his eyes on me and not off that 18 year old ass that waves invitingly at him from the stairclimber.
The Gold plan doesn't stop everyone else in the gym from staring at me and snickering. Fear is the worst enemy for someone is trying to lose weight. We are afraid of the pain involved in losing weight. We are afraid of missing another episode of "Blind Date." We are afraid of missing a new girl posting on SG. But most of all we are afraid that we won't have the strength to carry through and that no matter how hard we work and no matter how little we eat, we will always stay the same.
I felt that same way. Then I had a nuclear fucking meltdown. The biggest kick in the ass. Instead of someone else pointing at my round tummy and laughing, I was tearing at my huge gut and crying. If I could have ripped off this tire surrounding my waist I would have. Skin, blood, and all.
But I can't do that so I did the next best thing. I went through my day at work and after work I walked into the gym and filled out a card and sat down with someone who looked at me and tried to juice me for as much money as possible because they've seen this all before. I'm the fat kid who woke up one day and said "I'm going to lose weight and I'm going to eat like a rabbit and I'm going to go the beach without leaving my shirt on. And in two months I'll stop coming to this gym because my weight has not miraculously fallen off." I could see it in his eyes. I was just another fat person who grew a wild hair in their ass and in a few weeks that hair would be gone along with my motivation. But what he didn't know was that I had a nuclear fucking meltdown.
I am Chernobyl incarnate and I have come for your women and children, motherfucker.
That basically started it the road to a healthier lifestyle. A year later I am 270 lbs and would be less if I hadn't almost broken my ankle at the gym playing raquetball. That kept me out of the gym for a good 4 months. Two of those months had me in an ankle brace. The other two were me trying to deal with the fear again. It will still come back and haunt like a bad mexican pizza but when it does remember that CODE RED nuclear fucking meltdown is your friend. If another episode of staring in a mirror and hating what you see is what it takes to accomplish it, then so be it. It is all worth it.
Being a thin person is not everyone's bag of chips. Some of us are content to be large and happy Some of us are happy to be in love with those of us who are large. Some of us could give a fuck less what we look like and how we are perceived. I applaud you because at this stage in my life, I can't accept myself like this anymore.
But I know that no matter how much wieght I lose I will always be a fat person. I can drop to a meager 10 percent bodyfat, but everytime I look in the mirror I will see the man of girth staring right back at me. That's what will keep me motivated. That and I do feel much better now. Where I used to struggle with a one mile jog/walk, I can now jog 5 miles and still have breath enough to allow me to open the door to my house. I can leg press 750 lbs. I still get the stares but when I do that it is normally the stare of "Oh my god, how in the fuck did he accomplish that?" And when I get the stares I glance back and everyone knows what I am thinking: I am Chernobyl incarnate and I have come for your women and children, motherfucker.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
thank you for writing that...I admire your dedication.