I am fat.
I know this, because I look at myself in the mirror on a daily basis, and, while I am not ashamed of myself, as I once was, I can see that I do not look the way that I want to. Yet, most people deal with this simple thought on a regular basis, so, I am not breaking new ground. But, I am, however, comfortable with myself enough to want to improve upon what I see every day of my life. Some have told me that I am not happy with myself as a person; that I am not happy being ME, the way that I was “created”, or, to put in gaming geek terms, I wasn’t happy with one of my stats rolls (that being CHR) – simply put, my soul wandered the “Closet of Traits, Skills and Attributes” and while I took high rolls on many stats, and even took a few feats, for some strange reason I bottomed out and took a low roll on the CHR.
Apparently, I didn’t beg the DM for a reroll.
Oh, I’m also still a gamer – but, not the basement dwelling non-bathing sloth that you might knee-jerk-reaction think of. I have an education, a great and full life with an equally fulfilling job, amazing friends (here and abroad), family, two awesome cats, a mountain of movies and books, and plenty of other endeavors to keep me occupied throughout the days and nights. I even find some nights to get in some “sexy-sexy” time, but, there’s no detail of that here.
I am fat…and it took me years to come to the ability to say it without a modicum of cringing at myself, or, without a dash of self-loathing. And believe me, there was plenty of self loathing from childhood to adult life. Yet, when I am about to turn the knob and open the door to the age of 35, I find myself being more active and more healthy than I have ever been in my life…even after I lost 120 pounds. If my younger self of 21 years old, were to ever have a conversation with my now 34 year old self (35 isn’t until this Saturday), firstly, I’d bitch-slap myself and have an extremely staunch conversation. Secondly, the YOUNGER me would have scoffed at the OLDER me stating that I would enjoy and look forward to a plate of vegetables…even for dinner. There was a time, not too long ago, when a dinner consisted of an Ultimate Cheeseburger with bacon from Jack in the Box, a chicken sandwich with extra mayo, jumbo fries, two tacos, and a super-duper large “real” coke.
To break that down, an adult male should intake no more than 2500 calories per day to maintain a “healthy living” – yes, I know this number can be argued against…I’m going with the “norm”. The food I listed above was a normal meal just prior to a night of fun, adventuresome gaming – and that’s not to include the table full of munchies that any gaming group is want to have nearby.
Bacon Ultimate Cheeseburger – 1090 Calories with 77 Grams of fat
Jumbo Fries – 612 Calories with 28 Grams of fat
Two Tacos – 400 Calories with 22 Grams of fat
Chicken Sandwich w/ extra mayo – 415 Calories with 21 Grams of fat
44 ounce Coke Classic – 499 Calories with 0 Grams of fat
Total Caloric intake for that ONE meal – 3016 Calories with 148 grams of fat.
My heart actually shudders at the thought of what I was actually ingesting. On average, I was probably taking in 3,000 to 4,200 calories PER DAY. Part of my brain rationalized that I was powerlifting at the time; this thought was simply delusional. Sure, I WAS powerlifting and I became VERY strong, but I wasn’t burning enough during those sessions to warrant that kind of calorie intake.
By the end of high school, I weighed a little more than 375 pounds. By the time I was the age of 21, my first SERIOUS (as serious as you can get at that age) girlfriend and I broke up. I weighed a little more than 420 lbs. After more than a month of agonizing pain that even the fated Romeo couldn’t understand, because, that’s how you feel when you’re fat and the relationship you had with a petite girlfriend ends, I dropped near 20 pounds…mainly because I wasn’t eating. I was losing weight out of sheer depression. My chest hurt, my abdomen hurt; I was chewing down 2-3 rolls of Rolaids per day just to quell the heartburn. I finally went into the doctor to complain, and, where I thought I was going to get a sympathetic ear, I nearly was slapped across the face. My blood pressure was so high that if he were to cut me, I’d spurt out blood for nearly 60 feet (I’m quite sure he was exaggerating…). My heart was racing so fast, that, just moving was giving added stress. My knees ached, my back ached…everything ached.
“If you don’t lose 20 pounds in two weeks, you’re going to be dead of a heart attack in THREE weeks…”
The doctor went on to tell me that he didn’t care HOW I lost the weight, just that I did; Jokingly, he said he didn’t care f I sliced open my fat ass and shoved a Hoover Vacuum cleaner up it, or even (unethically) stating that he didn’t care if I started meth as a diet; he was very worried and very scared for me.
Two weeks later, I had a little more than 20 pounds off and he was happy. But I had a LONG way to go. A very long way.
Fast forward to more recent times.
I haven’t weighed the weight that I currently am since probably my Sophomore year in high school. In 4th grade I weighed 126lbs and by 7th grade, I weighed 221lbs. I’ve had many potholes that have made me gain some weight back on; someone very close passing away, depression, unemployment, etc…the things that can be curve balls in life, but, I never simply gave up. I paused the game, but never quit it. By the end of my last serious relationship, I had ballooned back up to 351 pounds…I hadn’t really even realized it until I went to a costume party and, what I saw in my head with the outfit, WASN’T what I saw in the mirror! A few months later, I was in a bad accident, the above mentioned relationship ended and I went to Phoenix for half a year. There, I found part of me, and I found how easily it can be to lose weight.
And by easy, I mean pain meds and not eating very much.
In the here and the now, I bike or run (jog / walk really) nearly every day; the running aspect is a 2.6 mile loop around the waterfront park in Downtown Portland and I typically run two laps –three if I’m feeling bold. Two days out of the week, I ride my bike that is sitting on a stationary trainer in my living room where I watch episodes of “Stargate Universe”, “Mad men”, Doctor Who” or any other TV show or movie – I average a 60 – 90 minute ride on the hardest bike gear setting with half full tension on the resistance meter. As of last night, I’m averaging 17.9 MPH for those rides where I used to average a little more than 12 MPH. I continue to use Weight Watchers as my main “diet” but I also use an online tracker that also shows an approximation of my calorie, fat, carbs and protein intake for the day. In addition, the program also tells me an approximation of calories burned during my riding / running.
I eat more healthy now than I ever have – that’s not to say that I don’t put down a couple slices of pizza once a week at trivia, because, I do. Whereas once upon a time, I was able to down an XL Peter Piper Pizza (21 inch pizza) on my own and chase it with three microwave burritos and a 2 liter of “Coke Classic”. Now, I eat turkey, chicken, and I have glorious amounts of fruit and vegetables throughout the day.
I still have a long ways to go, and I know that there will be moments of faltering mixed with sometimes self-hate because I faltered, but, as one of my favorite professors told me once over coffee, “Even in the face of adversary, one must soldier on…”
And right now, I’m going to soldier on to my run for the day.
-Dusty.
Memories From the Fridge 