Fear is the Mind Killer

I wasnt sure what to expect when I started this blog. I thought it would be therapeutic to myself if I shared my journey. Maybe blogging would make me more accountable? Maybe my journey would help others, inspire others, motivate them?

Probably a bit of everything.

I’ve said before that I hate sharing photos of myself. I hate looking at them. Yet I’m going to. I’m going to share two photos that scare the crap out of me. Exposing my physical flaws is painful to do. I understand when I was at my heaviest I wasnt “hiding” anything. My giant gut was exposed to the world. But I could at least crop photos to remove my gut. Strategically hide my obesity.

I dont want to hide from it anymore. I need to accept how big I was and that it bothered me. I’m not saying bring overweight is bad. Not at all. I’m saying, for me personally, I was unhappy with my weight. I was unhappy with not being able to do the most basic physical things, like running more than 10 steps. Or jumping. And that’s not a joke. I couldn’t jump more than an inch off the ground.

So here is me. At the beginning of my journey and yesterday. I still have a ways to go. But I’m enjoying the journey.

Left photo: January 1st, 2018

Right photo: August 1st, 2018

Ireland!

Wow. That’s pretty much all I can say at this point. We just finished up day three in Ireland.

It’s amazing.

The people, the towns, the views, the history….the food.

Yes, as of the past three days, I am not following the keto diet. I’m not weighing myself daily like I was before. I had bread. Lots of bread. I had scones and soda bread and brown bread and black pudding made with oatmeal.

And it was all glorious. GLORIOUS!!

Now, to be fair, the wheels have not come off. While I may be overindulging at times, I am not eating everything and anything in sight. I have some control. (Some)

This way of vacation has a positive and negative process. The positive is that I have accepted the potential weight gain result of my (lack of) diet. On the negative side, one of my ultimate goals is to get to a point where I can eat daily without worrying about counting calories and gaining weight…and if I gain weight while enjoying myself, well that will be upsetting. If I go 9 days without counting calories, am I really incapable of control?

Who knows at this point. I sure dont.

(And for your viewing pleasure….a few photos.

Workout and shout out

Today is day 12 in the gym out of the last 16 days.

Five days a week for the past 2 weeks and 2 days.

I want to thank Joshua Samuel for giving me a workout routine that fits my experience, age, and ability.

I’ve never met Joshua except in the social media world. He’s an actor, bodybuilder, ex-marine based out of LA. He and I butt heads over a lot of hot topic areas but that hasnt stopped us from becoming friends. Thanks for your help Joshua.

Monday- chest, Tuesday- shoulders, Wednesday- back, Thursday- legs, Friday- arms and abs

Me. No more hiding.

I was blind to who I had become. I knew I was fat but I tricked myself into thinking that was all I was.

The truth is I had become a shell of who I was, who I needed to be. At my heaviest, at the end of last year, I avoided physical activities, was angry most of the time, stopped being the husband and father my family deserved. I was there, a part of the family, but a hollow me. I stared at my smartphone, aimlessly flipping through apps like a bored person staring in a refrigerator thinking something new would jump out.

If my children drew a picture of me I would be holding a phone in my hand.

I’ve spoken before, in previous posts, how it took me a long time to understand the depth I had fallen. How long it took me to prepare for change. Now I’m four months into this change and I’m happy, but I have setbacks, I have bad days. I have the tremendous fear I will fall back to old habits.

So I’m sharing a photo of me. One I hate to see more than anything. Me, with no shirt on. No adjusting my shirt to hide the belly fat, no more XXXL shirts so I could hide my gut.

This is me, a few months ago. Even with 45 dropped from my body this picture is still pretty accurate for how I look. It reminds me of how long I have to go.

I have no idea if anyone reads these blogs. I dont really care. I’m writing and sharing them for me. So I can look back at the first year or me.

My Voice Is Back

I’m at the gym.

My Voice is here.

I try to block it out but the voice in your head is the loudest voice there is.

You failed. You’re a failure. It’s too late.

Give up.

Look at the guy. Look at her. Look at their form, their muscles. They’re better than you. You’re doing it wrong. Put the weights down and go home. Sit on the couch. Watch a tv show. Eat. Eat it all.

You failed.

M Voice shows up a lot. A constant reminder of me. A constant reflection of who I am, then and now.

Am I a failure?

Give up.

You’re fat. Nothing will change that.

The funny thing about my Voice is it comes in flashes. Moments of self doubt. Moments of humbleness. Random moments.

Yet as quickly as it arrives, it can be pushed aside. By a song, a friend, a look in the mirror. A glance of approval from a stranger reassures you everything is fine and you can keep moving forward.

Today my Voice was pushed aside by lyrics from a song by Common that danced into my ears betweens sets:

Sittin’ in a shadow of me, gradually battlin’ me
A fall from grace like Adam and Eve
Search for the inner-Vatican in me
The temple, the body, I’m mental, I’m godly
Somehow I made my mess-ups my hobby
Is it the stress and the pressure? Probably
Out here with much anger inside me
Don’t know who my friends are, stranger inside me

Am I a failure? No. Have I failed? Yes. My failures dont define me though. How I act after failure does.

Goodbye, Voice. For now.