If that means a few more months of concentration and rigid plans, then so be it.
The “How Different Can I Possibly Look?” Trap
As you may or may not know, the centerpiece of my summer is a three-week trip home to Detroit in July for my friend Guy’s wedding. My flight leaves in roughly a month and a half, which is why I stopped focusing on getting down to 240 a few weeks ago, instead opting for the more realistic 250.
Let’s say I weigh between 260-265 right now. Even if I do get down to 250, how much different will I look than I do right now? It’s not about the numbers, really, as much as it is about the look. Fifteen pounds on a 260-pound man won’t make a huge impact. Minimally, I suppose.
There is another way to look at it that I must start to embrace. The lowest weight the home crowd ever saw me at was 275, and that was two years ago.
(By the way, I have to tell someone this so it might as well be you. As I was writing that last sentence, we had a minor earthquake I could feel just enough to make me wonder what the hell was going on. Apparently it was a 3.5 magnitude quake. It was the fourth one I’ve been in, and the second one I’ve felt. I must say I am quite scared that the Big One will hit while I live out here, but I think the small ones are awesome. Afterwards, you feel like anything can happen. The Big One could be coming, the earth could open up and swallow you whole, and aliens could land their spaceship in your front yard. If the ground can just move like that, then anything is possible. It’s like a Universal Studios ride, but with the actual fucking earth!)
Now, 250 pounds, when compared to 275 pounds, would be a big difference. If I get down to 250 within the next six weeks, I have a chance to look different to the people I love – and that would create a lot of pride for me.
Fear of Success
I’ve been accused of it before by commenters, and I could never really dispel that notion. I think it is true, in a way.
As the weight loss goes, I am somewhat haunted by this scenario: One day, a few months from now, I get on the scale and see that I weigh 239 pounds. Success! Time to celebrate! Screw the gym and screw the salads. I am going out for a big, fat dinner somewhere nice. I love my dinner, love my day off, and love achieving my goal. I go to bed and…. Well, what do I do the next day? Am I still on the diet? Am I off it now? Do I take a week to eat whatever I want, jeopardizing that 240 reading and the entire process over the course of seven days? Or do I keep going after enjoying that one meal and set my sights on 230? What happens then?
Article comments
1 - Guy
That posting was a paragraph shy of being a novella - but pretty good. You do an awful lot of thinking in that giant head of yours. On ym end I'm sorry about the trail off in comments. I know my words are the inspiration you need to keep going- but am dealing with a lot of the same issues you are with the change to summer: i.e. people like to grill meat and drink delicious beers in the summer and I like to join them. That has lead to a month long off day starting with the Kentucky Derby and hopefully ending last weekend.
So we've got a bit of a countdown going on here. I know you have the resolve to keep the ship on course. You will feel a billion times better about this trip home if you finish strong. Think of Coach Carp (may he rest in peace) - not the times when he was mocking you as you made your way to the opposite side of the track, but the whole part about finishing hard.
Even though numbers don't matter that much - if you want to set your sights on something then 240 is a lofty goal. Try for it- don't go lax and start eyeing 250, because before you know it it will be 2 weeks before you board the plane and you'll be thinking , "just maintain 260". Don't make fucking excuses just do the work. Eat the salad, go to the gym, enjoy the success and then one day rule the world and appoint me Ambassador to the Netherlands.
Talk to you later.