I. Eat. Maybe.


I like food. It's possible you've noticed.

I could easily weigh 300 pounds. Those that know me over the last 10 years might scoff at the notion. I'm skinny. I exercise religiously and bring fruit to work to snack on. There's no way I could ever be seriously overweight.

Except. Being overweight is the defining characteristic of my life. We could bring in a psychologist to point out that I'm letting my weight, and food, define my life. Let's not argue semantics right now. I'm coming out of the fat closet. I think about food, and my weight, constantly. That alone doesn't make me fat, but it's a symptom.

Going into 10th grade, I weighed 235 pounds. I was maybe 5-foot-2. By any definition, I was morbidly obese. I could have lost 100 pounds and not been considered frail or gaunt. Fed up (ha!), I lost weight the unhealthy way. I stopped eating. I didn't cut down on my meals. I walked out the door for the 7 a..m. schoolbus without eating breakfast. I wouldn't bring a meal ticket for lunch, so it was impossible to eat lunch. When I got home, it was two Healthy Choice dinners and maybe a sandwich. Then a Diet Coke and a 20-minute or 30-minute ride on the exercise bike.

I lost about 70 pounds that way and grew a little. Then, through college and beyond, the weight creeped up to around 200 pounds. My starvation diet proved untenable in the real world. That's not a bad thing. It forced me to come to a reckoning.

When TW and I broke up, I lost all my appetite. This is what happens when I have a breakup. I have absolutely no hunger, desire or interest in food, sometimes for weeks on end.

At the age of 25, I needed a reboot. This is no way to go through life, hanging out around 200 pounds and rarely exercising. I love to eat. That defines a part of me. But there are ways to compensate. After the breakup, everything changed. My snacks became spicy peanut mixes from Trader Joe's. My treats became bananas with a dab of chocolate peanut butter.

Mostly, I exercised obsessively to reach an all-time low of 155 pounds. Then I got married and put 10 pounds on during the honeymoon alone. It was only seven nights. I don't know how that's possible.

Nearly 10 years after that reboot, I'm wavering again. My weight had stabilized around 170 pounds before I had surgery on my right knee this summer. In late July, the scale said I was 184. That's scary for us fat guys. It felt like a slip back to the old Jim. Not good. Through a combination of diet and exercise, I was back down to 172 pounds last week.

I know, I know. White person problems. Thing is, I like being physically active. And I love running into people I haven't seen since high school. When I first lost all the weight, at age 25, people would say (COVER YOUR CHILDRENS' EYES): "Holy shit. You look great."

If you ever want to make somebody's day, just say, "Holy shit. You look great." People ought to do it even if you've gained 20 pounds, but the world doesn't turn that direction.

I'm not 170 pounds. I'm will be there again. I don't need any moral support. It will happen. It's possible I'll get under 170 again. Don't worry, you're not going to read all about it here. Nothing could be more excruciating for me to write about, detailing the ins and outs of what I ate and where I ran and how much yoga I did. There will be no photos documenting previous weights or future weights.

You were lied to earlier in this blog. I love food. Bacon fries. Beer. Buffalo wings. If it begins with a B, I eat it. The epihone I had at 25 was a simple one. Have those things. Enjoy them. Just don't have them all the time. And pay attention to how much you weigh. Because if you're not paying attention to your weight, nobody else will. At least, not for good reasons.

Just don't assume that I'm naturally skinny. I love food. But I like being thin better.

Comments

  1. David CorriveauSeptember 21, 2011 at 5:51 AM

    You just wrote the story of my life, at least in the basic outlines and neuroses. The first time I got big (middle school) growing 5 inches in height in one summer solved the problem temporarily. And in the late 1970s and early '80s, running did the trick. Then after age 30, more yo-yo-ing. You no doubt remember my taking up a fair amount of space in the VNews sports department in the early part of this century. After peaking at 247 in the spring of 2004, I started eating more sensibly and walking more. Then came Weight Watchers in the fall of '04, and got down to mid-160s, where I've mostly stayed since. You're quite right about pounding the strike zone with fruit and vegetables, and balancing occasional treats with exercise. One follow-up question for you: How much does taking Daisy out for regular exercise make the task easier?

    ReplyDelete
  2. JillSeptember 21, 2011 at 10:12 AM

    Food is amazing and you kind find a good, healthy balance. You're so active that I don't think you'll ever get back to where you were. And, you won't let yourself get there. Remember, your life will never suck as much as mine does, so you really have no reason to eat any sorrows. I can always put other people's lives into perspective. :) 74-5-8.

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