I am one of the millions of Americans who are obese, based on current standards. Not overweight, not “stout” as my mama used to say, or any of the enabling adjectives used to appeal to women by marketers who realize guys can’t be called “curvy” or “thick” without someone having a whole lot of explaining to do.
I’ve struggled with weight all my adult life. There are a whole lot of reasons why, but two accurately sum it up: I eat too much and I don’t exercise. I know better. I know what increased risks I may face given my racial and genetic predisposition toward high blood pressure, heart disease and diabetes, and I know what role being fat plays in increasing the odds that I’ll die from one of these illnesses unless I get my eating and weight under control.
I’ve done it before. At one point I lost more than 100 pounds and kept it off for years. I was dedicated to eating right and exercising. I knew what it took and simply did it. I looked better and felt better.
But, I’m an emotional eater. A few years ago, a series of personal and professional battles led me back to that old, comforting behavior of stuffing my mouth and sitting on my butt whenever I had doubt, felt fear or faced uncertainty. As my eating got out of control, I justified it. My waistline grew, and my self-esteem shrunk.
But I never admitted it, until now. As a guy, you just don’t admit . . .that. So, why now?
I’m older now. I have fewer years ahead of me to take the weight off, and it’s certainly not as easy as it was when I was younger. I’m also developing tell-tale signs that the weight is hurting me. Joints hurt. Walking across a parking lot leaves me breathless. My cholesterol is sky-high. There are moments when I feel my heart laboring to pump efficiently under the weight of my fleshy shell.
There’s even a bit of vanity driving my desire to change. Though I know there are some people for whom the concept of “big sexy” is an aesthetic ideal, I’m not one of ‘em.
Last year I vowed to take my life back. There were three components on which I planned to focus: getting my professional life in order, putting down roots again and getting my body back.
Done and done on the first two. Now, I’m focusing on the most difficult goal of the three – losing all this weight.
To get started, I had to say what you’re not supposed to say to yourself: “You’re lazy. You eat way too much. You don’t move anything but your hand to your mouth. You make too many excuses. This ‘weight problem’ is going to kill you.” It was hard to say, harder to hear and hardest to accept. But I had to begin with the truth.
I fear what’s ahead. I think that’s because this is perhaps my last, best chance to do the one thing I’ve never successfully done: lose weight and keep it off. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s necessary and I know it. I’ve got all the motivation I need.
When I’m lacking in motivation, however, I’ll remember Bill Cosby’s advice about overcoming fear: “Decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.” Right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to be free of this weight. For me, there can be no more putting it off. Beginning now, my weight is over.
