I hate to admit it, but that fat, chubby cheeked, groundhog faced, jolly green giant is me. This photo was taken back in 2003 close to the height of my weight. I had over the years grown into my 6'6" 337+ lb frame. I actually have to add the plus sign because I eventually gave up weighing myself out of sheer embarrassment to the scale. I think it eventually started to feel bad it had to have such a high amount, and I unfortunately kept egging it on. My diet consisted of McDonald's double cheese burgers (usually 2 at a time), copious amounts of fat food, and well actually anything I could fit my hands on and devour. My weakness was always the Chinese buffets. In fact, I remember growing up and going to Nim's Garden in Milton and eating at least 2-3 plates of just fried rice. You would have thought I was training to be a sumo wrestler or at least a linebacker, but no just training to get fat. Well I got fat and then some, but that was only part of the story. Food has always been an excuse for me, even after getting to this point in my life food is still a great comforter. I think that will always be a problem for me, but hopefully something I can eventually conquer or subdue.
Most of my life, at least the teenage years, was a nightmare for me. I was so awkward that I gave awkward a bad reputation. I remember asking out girls in the hope of finding someone who thought I was attractive, but that never happened until I was almost out of high school. At some point I started to get confidence in myself, but while in high school it was pretty limited to my senior year, and by that point it was more of a feeling that I was almost graduating and I was owed some street credit. Eventually I graduated high school and began a journey that would forever change my life.
College was a total experience that I never expected. I could write a lot about it, but I will stick to the story. I had my first true love at the end of my freshman year of college, Lindsay W. I felt on top of the world, but that could have been that it was the first person to show love back and it made me feel that somehow I was experiencing love. I remember and this should have been a foreshadow to the future, but she told me 3 months into dating, late one evening, that I was too fat for her. Wow, I mean I know people have said things in the past, like in the middle school when Alicia Hefty told me I had cankles, or others poked fun at my weight, but this hurt. Did I do anything about it, no. In fact I think I may have lost a small amount of weight and then gained it back only to try and lose it again, but this time without support from the person who told me I was fat in the first place.
Then it happened, one year and six months later she broke the news that she couldn't be with me anymore and it seemed weight had to play a part. I cried, not going to lie, for quite some time. Then the strangest thing happened, I woke up early one morning looked at myself in the mirror and actually admitted to myself that I hated what I saw. I didn't feel bad about saying that, in fact it inspired me to change. I went out to the track that day to begin running, well maybe more like a slow jog with the hopes that if you filmed it, sped it up times 100 I would look like I was at least doing a 10 minute mile. I couldn't even finish one lap around the track without feeling like I was going to have a cardiac arrest. The next day I went out and jogged and went a little further and then again the same thing the next day till I had run a whole mile at the end of one week.
From that moment on I was either running, working out, going to class, working, or doing one of the million activities I got involved with on campus. You see I don't hate the path I was on, because it helped me to get to the destination I have arrived at today. I've lost over 100 lbs, only to gain some back and then lose some again, and then gain it back and repeat the cycle. Weight lose isn't easy. I would attribute it to something like smoking where you can't just do it cold turkey unless you happen to be one of the lucky ones. You have to keep trying no matter how much of a fool you end up looking, because eventually one day you will reach your goal.
I haven't reached my goal, obviously had I done that my story would look a little different. My hope is to eventually be under 200 lbs, though my mom thinks I will be a twig. I have come to think that as long as I am healthy and happy I don't care how much I weigh. What I do care about is setting individual goals, such as running a half marathon to help take steps to overcoming my past, strides to help keep me present, and a pace that moves me towards a future that sees my daughter grow up with a father.
Most of my life, at least the teenage years, was a nightmare for me. I was so awkward that I gave awkward a bad reputation. I remember asking out girls in the hope of finding someone who thought I was attractive, but that never happened until I was almost out of high school. At some point I started to get confidence in myself, but while in high school it was pretty limited to my senior year, and by that point it was more of a feeling that I was almost graduating and I was owed some street credit. Eventually I graduated high school and began a journey that would forever change my life.
College was a total experience that I never expected. I could write a lot about it, but I will stick to the story. I had my first true love at the end of my freshman year of college, Lindsay W. I felt on top of the world, but that could have been that it was the first person to show love back and it made me feel that somehow I was experiencing love. I remember and this should have been a foreshadow to the future, but she told me 3 months into dating, late one evening, that I was too fat for her. Wow, I mean I know people have said things in the past, like in the middle school when Alicia Hefty told me I had cankles, or others poked fun at my weight, but this hurt. Did I do anything about it, no. In fact I think I may have lost a small amount of weight and then gained it back only to try and lose it again, but this time without support from the person who told me I was fat in the first place.
Then it happened, one year and six months later she broke the news that she couldn't be with me anymore and it seemed weight had to play a part. I cried, not going to lie, for quite some time. Then the strangest thing happened, I woke up early one morning looked at myself in the mirror and actually admitted to myself that I hated what I saw. I didn't feel bad about saying that, in fact it inspired me to change. I went out to the track that day to begin running, well maybe more like a slow jog with the hopes that if you filmed it, sped it up times 100 I would look like I was at least doing a 10 minute mile. I couldn't even finish one lap around the track without feeling like I was going to have a cardiac arrest. The next day I went out and jogged and went a little further and then again the same thing the next day till I had run a whole mile at the end of one week.
From that moment on I was either running, working out, going to class, working, or doing one of the million activities I got involved with on campus. You see I don't hate the path I was on, because it helped me to get to the destination I have arrived at today. I've lost over 100 lbs, only to gain some back and then lose some again, and then gain it back and repeat the cycle. Weight lose isn't easy. I would attribute it to something like smoking where you can't just do it cold turkey unless you happen to be one of the lucky ones. You have to keep trying no matter how much of a fool you end up looking, because eventually one day you will reach your goal.
I haven't reached my goal, obviously had I done that my story would look a little different. My hope is to eventually be under 200 lbs, though my mom thinks I will be a twig. I have come to think that as long as I am healthy and happy I don't care how much I weigh. What I do care about is setting individual goals, such as running a half marathon to help take steps to overcoming my past, strides to help keep me present, and a pace that moves me towards a future that sees my daughter grow up with a father.
No comments:
Post a Comment