March 3rd, 2012: Okay, lost two pounds, but still I have a net gain of 1 lb. Hopefully that’ll come off tomorrow. So I’m at 303. Instead of regular exercise last night, I shoveled out from a blizzard. Just when you think winter’s over . . .
I may sometimes come off like I have this weight loss program under control. That is actually only true about 50% of the time. I’ll admit, scale victories help prop up my attitude, but when I hit an eddy or have some stupid unexplained gain, it does become a hell of struggle for me. It’s then when I have to make choices almost by the minute and try really hard to look a lot further down the road. Outwardly, I try to project a positive attitude, because I know where the head goes, the ass will follow. I’ll also admit that I’m classically co-dependent on or with or whatever it is concerning my wife. But we make it work.
We are co-dependent in both our good and our bad habits. The night she told me she was pregnant with William, I decided right then to quit drinking because I knew she would quit drinking. When I decided to go on this program, she took on a new diet of her own. Although she never needed to, she has lost 17 lbs.
Because of my co-dependent ways, I was skeptical whether or not this would work for me. My Mom is co-dependent on her husband – and all the diets she ever tried she derailed herself because of it. I heard someone, somewhere, say to someone else (it may even have been on the Biggest Loser), “What, do you think getting fatter is going to make (whomever) happy?” I believe it was in regard to one spouse thinking that if they undertook a weight loss program it would hurt the other’s feelings. Seems kind of stupid when you think about it, doesn’t it? Truth is, I was really worried about this, but I had made the rather quietly-difficult decision in December 2011 that when I would start this program in January, I was going to make it a point to not care whether or not it hurt anyone’s feelings. I would put myself first, in this department, from now on, because I would be no good to anyone dead, or so fucking fat that I couldn’t even move.
But then my wife followed suit. Wow, she is cool. What makes it even cooler is that she’s a foodie-type chef person with some serious kitchen skills. And you know what, she even started orienting all her cooking toward healthier food because of our unspoken mutual decision to lose weight (even though I’m the only person in the marriage that needs to lose weight).
My point in all this is that I hope you have wonderful family support system like I have within my home. But if that can’t be the case, and they give you crap about your program, then fuck their feelings about your small food and big exercise; and follow your program until you win anyway. I promise that in less than six months you’ll be happier, they’ll be happier, everyone will be happier.
March 3rd, 2020: I used to fight a constant mental battle about whether I was neglecting my autistic son in order to follow the siren of narcissism and vanity right into the gym much too often. I couldn’t ignore the persistent nag that I was dropping the ball as a father when I would park him in a chair and get on the stairmaster for an hour, in view of him, but auditorily lost within my ear buds. This is another case of me against me – me being my own worst enemy.
But then he started, on his own, exercising on the elliptical machine and then the treadmill. How is that not a win? I know this, I cannot remember ever leaving a gym or completing a workout and feeling mentally lousy. There is not one other institution, activity, or brick and mortar space about which I could say the same.
A one-hour workout actually takes two and a half hours, if you consider all the other stuff you have to include (driving, changing clothes, etc.). I could do a lot of other things with that two and a half hours that included my family – activities that are much more recreational in nature, or even more educational. I still do those things, just not as often, literally because of the above-mentioned time commitment required to follow the program.
I think I’m doing the right thing – and my point is that even though I purposely took myself away from my family by initiating the program and following it so strictly for so many years, I have to believe it was the best move. My older son is now a personal trainer, my wife is a personal trainer, and I’m a personal trainer. My younger son loves to help fold towels at this gym, knows everyone in the place practically, and is starting to appreciate exercise.
Done correctly, I don’t think you follow an exercise and diet plan. I think what you do is find a program and live the process. With that attitude, I think your daily productive time increases because you have more energy. I think the traditionally recreational things you do with your family, although perhaps not done quite as often, are more fun because you have more energy. I also know the studies show that, all things being equal, it stands to reason you may live a few more years if you hop on the wagon and park your ass there.
