As I sit here, drinking my last cup of rapidly cooling coffee and listening to my youngest make the cutest noises, I am considering how fortunate I really am. I know it sounds a bit...campy, but it is true. I have a fantastic family; a beautiful and loving wife, a rambunctious and possibly the world's smartest three year old and a gorgeous infant who I am thankful for being healthy. I have a good job working with people I have grown to care about. A home, family, friends and goals. So what do I have to be stressed about? To be honest I am not really sure. I am a positive guy, for the most part, I am outgoing, social and possess character. I'd like to think people respect me, possibly even look to me for inspiration. However, I am not without faults. They are like the the tiny cracks in the dried oils of the "Mona Lisa". From afar, it looks beautiful - a masterpiece the world has come to love (not that I consider myself that important, though I admit I have slight delusions of grandeur as to my importance in the world) - that upon close inspection relates the ravages of time and the harsh reality that nothing is permanent. The realization that nothing is perfect, nothing is truly indelible and that nothing will ever really sate the nagging suspicion that there is something else out there that is "better" than the best.
Of course it is all a matter of perception. Each person on this planet possesses a quality that makes them unique - whether it is a soul, or the combination of neural pathways and experiences. That is not for me to try to explain, certainly not in a fitness blog. Which finally brings me around to the topic on hand. "Fitness"...again I bring into play the matter of perception, and the toll that it can place on a person.
Let us reel back time for a moment, lets say three years, to the day I decided that I was tired of being fat and exhausted. I remember not being able to sleep and was performing the auto channel flip that accompanies the state of limbo an insomniac slips into. I was pressing the button, hypnotized by the flickering images, when I came across the P90X infomercial. "STOP!", my mind screamed to my thumb, "This is something you need to see." Long story short, I got the videos and decided that I would do a 90 day transformation. I talked the talk, took before pictures and blogged about how I was going to succeed. I was holding myself accountable for this miraculous transformation, a completely unrealistic 90 day transformation. I knew deep inside that what I pictured myself looking like was not going to happen that fast. I was over 30% body fat...
Truth be told, I never finished the 90 day program. I would always find an excuse to restart from the beginning. I had an amazing transformation, I really did. I lost 50 pounds the first year. I went from a 44" waist to a 38". I lost twenty inches, I could do 100 pull-ups, a few hundred push-ups, I could do plyometrics for an hour - I could do all these "numbers". My life began to revolve around numbers. Pounds, reps, sets and eventually calories. My routine has changed. I no longer do six days of exercise for an hour+ a day, I focus on one to two days a week of intense lifting - no more than 20 minutes. But I was (and to a degree "am") still obsessed with my calories.
There I said it...I am obsessed. My wife - who I now realize has been infinitely patient with me for three years as I not only transformed my body, but transformed into this crazy, insane person that constantly thinks about exercise and food - has been telling me all along to stop. I am on the verge of tears right now because I realize that my priorities have been mixed up. I have been pushing her away, getting angry at her for my shortcomings and failures. I have been neglecting her and my family by not enjoying life. I am sorry, I really am.
I had a conversation with a good friend the other day, the kind of friend that will listen to you ramble on and then say the right thing that creates an epiphany, the epiphany that what everything that everyone has been telling you for the last few years is...true. It was a hard pill to swallow, but I can only live in denial for so long.
With this epiphany, came the realization that I haven't reached my goal(s) not because I wasn't trying hard enough. It is because I have been trying too hard. It's kinda like HIT; upside down training, i.e. the less you do the better the results. I have been stressing myself out, thus causing my stagnation. I am not realizing my potential because I am too focused on it. I feel like a damned fool. I have been annoying everyone I meet with all this talk, even though I know they didn't really care. It is humbling to know that your friends will tolerate you at your most annoying state.
I recently heard a radio program featuring Jon Gabriel, who talked about stress being the "fat trigger". I'd like to read his book sometime. But I think I finally get the picture that I am my own worst enemy. I have been obsessed and stressed about my body image for way too long. It's time to take a step back and enjoy my life, family and friends.
I will try to stay balanced. I will not be obsessed with calorie counting and thinking about lifting. I will continue to try and eat clean, following an 80-20 rule and leave the thoughts on lifting in the gym. Moderation and appreciation are my new goals. I am healthy right now, why push myself into health problems by worrying about health? I wish I could learn to listen to people from the start. It sure would have been easier (face palm).
*apologies if I do not reply to comments, I seem to be experiencing brain farts on how to comment back.
No comments:
Post a Comment