Tomorrow I start working a physical trainer and dietician again. Her name is Heather, she owns Abs & Apples here in Toledo, and she’s the same person that kicked my butt into losing 97 pounds three years ago. Of that 97 pounds I gained back every single bit of it when I moved to New Mexico, but since January of 2011 I’m down 25 pounds overall. I have a lot of work to do.
The problem is bigger than me (no pun intended) now. It’s not for my personal well-being anymore. It’s about my daughter. My wife. My job at CedarCreek.tv. My photography business. My family. My furniture. My clothes. My weight affects every single part of my life in some way. I wrote a little about it last year right after attending the STORY conference. The gist was that my weight has made and is making my life unnecessarily difficult. In addition to the obvious health hazzards, I am simply and logistically making my life more difficult than it needs to be just by choosing not to do a miniscule amount of work now that will greatly improve my life now and later. For example, today I had to book a flight for an upcoming work trip, and I had to purchase an upgraded seat ticket to simply make it manageable. Unreal I’ve let it get to this point.
My problem with weight has always been a simple one… lack of motivation. Despite my unusually large size, I’m healthy. Sure I lose my breath going up large flights of stairs, but I’m not diabetic. I don’t have high blood pressure. And blah blah blah… Add to that my general style of “living life in the moment, screw tomorrow” and you’ve got a recipe for a fattie.
But I’m finally starting to see things differently. I’m finally starting to see the logic behind losing weight to make life a little less difficult. I’m not talking drastic life change, which may or may not happen. I’m talking about the little things. I’m talking about not feeling like I have to do EVERYTHING better than everyone else just to get by because Lord knows I’m not getting by on looks (of course, my competitive nature will probably still make me feel that way, but at least now it might not have to be because I feel inadequate in other ways). I’m starting to see the logic in losing weight and living a longer life to see my daughter and her kids and their kids. I’m starting to understand that dangit, I want to grow old. I want to be grumpy old man to everyone but my wife who I want to be a cute old couple with.
I’ve been quietly losing weight for the last three months. Simply watching what I eat has allowed that. Tomorrow I bring a tank to the knife-fight I’ve been waging alone for twenty-nine years. Tomorrow I start again, again.