This time last year, if you said I was on the door step of being under 200 pounds, I probably would have laughed in your face and said “at least one of us believes in me.” It was this mythical promise land that I never considered I’d reach again because I had accepted the big guy lifestyle. Eat, drink, be merry, eat some more, tell some bad jokes and drink some more. Wash, rinse and repeat until the day I die eating a dozen peanut butter and bacon burgers. Actually full disclosure, those are actually absolutely delicious and will change your life. In moderation of course. I am a recovering fat kid after-all.
Growing up, I was always on the bigger side. It was something that I accepted as a fact of life, accepted as part of my identity and wound up embracing the comedic relief big guy role. I have the ability to occasionally make people with the ridiculous non sequiturs, obscure pop culture references, and a terrible accent or 3 that are really the same terrible accent in a higher pitch and I was OK with being that guy. Losing the weight seemed counter-productive to that set identity and I listened to the little voice in my head that always encouraged second helpings and the finest soda, in the largest cup that McDonald’s had to offer. The bigger I got, the easier it became to simply accept the fact that I would never been under 200 pounds again.
The last time I was under 200 pounds was *cough*high*couch*school*cough*. Since nutrition and working out wasn’t a priority in high school and the start of college I ballooned and accepted it as a part of life, something that I had to learn to live with as I got older. Hell, even when I recognized that changes were needed I never entertained the notion that I would ever be under 200 pounds again, I thought 215 would be a solid end goal weight. Any weight below 200 seemed like a foolish pipe dream that only belonged in purely hypothetical discussions that immediately got pushed aside because it wasn’t realistic. Every time I would try to start getting a handle on the weight, that little voice would speak up, say that why should I even bother, I’m still just going to be a big dude and it’s not worth the aggravation to put myself through that. I would have the fortitude to keep it at bay for a little while, but that voice always seemed to win out in the end. Until recently anyway.
That obnoxious little troll voice has been with me every step of the way over the last 9 1/2 months. When I started back in January, I still didn’t entertain the idea that I could get under 200 pounds, I still figured 215 would a nice, healthy(ish) weight that was attainable. As I went along and got closer to that goal, the voice started getting a little weaker, not much at first but enough that goals that once seemed outrageous and entirely unattainable seemed more reasonable. 215 eventually became under 200, and under 200 is now 180-185.
The best way to combat the inner demons that tell you that you can’t do the thing for whatever cockamamie reason it comes up with is to show it and yourself that you can do the thing as long as you stick to your guns, and have that support system in place that will help you on the darker days. That’s how I’ve gotten as far as I have, which as of this morning includes weighing in at 199.5. Next stop is the 180’s. Beyond that? Well, there’s only one way to truly find out right? Keep moving forward, and only look back for the occasional Transformation Tuesday and Throwback Thursday post.