This is my choice.

I choose how I am going to live my life.

The program has been a challenge to me, but I’ve chosen to keep it up and do the work outs and eat the right foods. The choice was always mine to begin with, but the choice to eat whatever I wanted had a consequence and I’m paying for it. The choice to stop working out has had a consequence. The choice to try and do every physical thing that hurt me had a consequence. Life is full of choices and consequences… and now that I’m choosing to work out, to eat right, and rebuild my health there are other consequences. I can’t just fork over a few dollars for fast food burgers and pizza whenever I feel like it. I have to wake up earlier to prepare my food. I have to give up treats at work when the my coworkers decide to have cake, or cookies, or even pancakes… the latter of which actually happened this past week. My supervisor, however, thinking of me decided to bring some pork and cheese and let me pick up whole grain tortillas for a quick something that everyone else was jealous of. And all of that is my choice.

At the risk of sounding a little political, this has always been a strong component of my personal philosophy. Free will, my choice, rage against the machine. It’s also one of the many reasons my past attempts to lose weight has failed. So many diets start with the 12 Step mantra that we are powerless over the thing we are trying to quit, the thing that causes us to ruin our lives, and so on so forth. For many people, this step is an important one that they need to face… but for me, I’ve never been able to accept powerlessness in myself. From a very young age, I replaced a great many of my emotions with directed rage. I fight… I don’t want to just accept “convention” for the sake of it, I want to test the limits and stretch the paradigms. Rage against the machine, rabble rouse, question, defy authority, and spit into the wind. Yeah, I get a few loogies in my face for the trouble but I also keep climbing when many people would have given up a long long time ago. The program I am on builds on that desire to fight and make my own choices, because the point at the core of DDP’s program is personal choice. And I don’t have to ‘make up’ or ‘beat myself up’ for eating a Double-Double from In & Out with Animal Fries. I just eat the next meal healthy and start all over again. It’s all up to me. This is my choice.

I can do the ‘down dog’ as of the end of last week, and this week had me going all the way through the 25 minute workout. My heart rate monitor ticks me up and I try to keep it under 138, though it went all the way up to 146 before I even knew it. My knee hurts from kneeling all the time, so I think I need some kneepads to do a few of these work outs. This marks the start of a third week, and in two more weeks I will have been doing this program a full month. I haven’t had even the smallest sip of soda in that time. 1 slice of pizza the first week, 2 this past week, and that afore-mentioned double-double with animal fries. Okay, it was 2 double-doubles and I’m paying for it with some sluggishness today but I’m not giving in. No more fast food for the rest of the week, unless it’s a subway sammich loaded with veggies I like. Friday evening will be the first time I do the “Fat Burner” workout, which runs about 30 minutes… I know I’ll need breaks, I know I won’t get it all the first time, but I’m going to push myself and fight the good fight. It’s all up to me. This is my choice.  

Friends and family have been hugely supportive, which I honestly need. I keep this blog because I enjoy having an audience and it keeps the pressure on me to keep going. And for all the benefit this offers, this blog has a consequence. If I quit, it serves as a reminder of my failure and a little bit of humiliation. But this is also my choice.

Keep reading and coming back for updates, because I plan to beat my weight and get healthy. After all, it’s all up to me. This is my choice.

Week Two, Mid Week Whimper

The difficulties and struggles of today are but the price we must pay for the
accomplishments and victories of tomorrow. ~ William Boetcker

I battle with depression.

I'm sticking to it and hit my work-out DVD despite wanting to cave in today and quit. I just wanted to curl up in a ball, but I didn't. I'm still wanting to curl up. People can probably tell how insecure, scared, and uncomfortable I am but I still try to put on a brave face and move forward... and I take huge leaps one week, only to move by centimeters the next. This week is a centimeter week with my only goal being to hit my work out schedule and not give in to temptation. I'll do it.

No I haven't given in... I'm still keeping to my diet as well. I'm still eating healthy.

I got myself wrapped up in the Santa Suit, did a little ditty, and was asked to perform for foster kids at a dinner. I'm not kidding. I know it sounds especially Christmas cheesy, but it's true... and, shockingly, I don't want to do it. I normally would. I normally would get so excited to be around kids, but it's not in my heart this week. Christmas is seriously not touching me this year and I'm feeling extremely disconnected from the world around me.

I haven't seen my best friend in 2 years, I haven't seen my mom either, I keep fighting with my wife, I keep fighting with my son, and I'm just sort of spiraling with this sadness and this loneliness. I'm not looking for pity or sympathy or any of that, because then I'd feel embarrassed on top of all that. I'm just expressing my thoughts and the challenges I need to overcome... because despite feeling all of that, I need to keep moving forward. Even if it's a crawl by centimeters.

Never give up, never give in. 

Week One, starting with a BANG!!! <>

It’s time to make my fan-boy happy and start this program with a “BANG!”…

I can almost bend to touch the floor with my hands, I went down a half inch in pant size (seriously, my pants were HUGE on me today) and my back isn't quite in agony. It's sore, but it isn't screaming at me to lay the fuck down and rest. I'm happy and a little giddy about it. I know the waist size thing will be back to "normal" tomorrow, probably, but this is a great start. And I can do these exercises without killing myself. This is fantastic.

So here’s the picture of me, at 310 or so… give or take a pound depending on where the scale is located and what time of the day it is. Maybe an excuse here and there to explain the extra poundage, but I’ll take the small comforts where I can. So here are the things I’m looking forward to:

Grilled chicken, Buffalo burgers, squash chips, the Diamond Cutter position where I’m not only allowed but encouraged to “hulk it out!”, and the feeling I’ll get from accomplishing each weekly goal. Right now the goal is to hit my yoga sessions at LEAST 3 times this week, Prepare my lunch for work all five days, and walk around the block on Friday night. Small goals, but DDP says that I should set achievable goals for myself and keep reaching for new ones once I’ve caught the others.

Who is DDP? I guess I should explain a little about this program I’m on, seeing as how so many not be aware and some people may be interested… this will also explain the first sentence of this week’s blog.

Diamond Dallas Page isn’t just some Yogo Guru, but rather he’s a former professional wrestler who main evented the WCW and WWE during their boom period in the late 90’s. This guy wasn’t just some muscle-head, either… DDP started his career late in life when everyone told him he would never be able to make it. He isn’t a bodybuilder,  he isn’t some high flying master of lucha-libre. He was, for all intents, a fairly average guy who stood a little taller than some and wrestled  with a good amount of psychology. After an injury sidelined him for a period, he worked to come back at the age of 42 and went on to not only main event again but to win the World Championship three times. (Yes, wrestling is fake… but being THE guy isn’t something just anyone can walk in and do…. It takes good matches, great psychology, and amazing charisma.) DDP never said “quit”, he never let anyone else back him down from what he wanted to achieve, and he put himself out there.

Now, I don’t have that type-A personality that DDP has… that’s not me. I’m much more introverted, a loner sort, I’m moody, and I’ve constantly allowed other people’s doubts to keep me from pursuing one dream or another. With that said, I don’t think DDP is going to totally revamp my personality… but I’m hoping that the wrestling fan in me keeps getting excited from the “bang” of the Diamond Cutter, DDP’s signature “hand sign” to the fans. It’s also the signature position in his Yoga technique, amusingly enough… there are twelve positions for me to learn, but the Diamond Cutter is by far the most fun to do. It’s little more than a basic stretch, reaching your arms back up high and then bringing them, out in a T, and then down further to “hulk it up!” … HAH! I love that.

See you next week for another update.   

 

So I'm a big fat fatty fat fateroo fatball fatty... with a side of fries.

Here's what's going on...

 I'm pretty nerdy, the left side of my face is pretty badly scarred and smashed up, my teeth are broken and I haven't had the greatest image of myself since I was a kid. The truth is that not only did I not eat very well I barely ate at all. What meals I did manage to get were scarfed quickly... being in a boarding school, we only had about a half hour to pick up our dinner on a tray, eat our dinner, and then clean up the tray afterward before marching back to the cottage. 

So my eating habits were a little chaotic, and my financial status was listed as "Occasional time spent beneath a bridge"... That changed when I moved to California. I wasn't always broke, and I could pretty much eat as much as I want whenever I want. I like fast food... I'm lazy and I don't really enjoy shopping for myself, cooking, or any of that. I've been gaining weight for awhile now, and I even wound up in the hospital with diverticulitis. My guts popped open, raw sewage seeped into my meat, and I was pretty much dying for about a week before I went to the hospital and they cut me open... two weeks + a couple of days extra for good measure.

I was released with a colostomy and some sage advice that I wound up forgetting and ignoring in short order. My son was born. I was a father. I was crying at the drop of a hat, my life was spiraling out of control, and I had to wear a brave face in front of all the chaos because I needed to put food on the table gaddammit! And that also meant food in my stomach. Comfort food, because I was depressed... I even picked up a prescription for anti-depressants since it got so bad. I wish I didn't need them, but the truth is that I'm a wreck without them. And my family means more to me than the wounded pride I felt in actually requiring a little help to get through the day... and yeah, they were hurt by my attitude, that's for damn sure.

 They reversed the colostomy a few months later, and then a few months after that they had to cut out excess scar tissue when my intestines started getting pinched by it. As I sat in recovery, I received news that one of my heroes had died. Shit. When it rains it pours... and it really poured on thick when that "hero" turned out to be the perpetrator of a double murder followed by suicide. Fucking christ in a handbasket... so I again fell into a bit of a pit. My grandmother died shortly after that, also. She pretty much raised me and was one of the few people who always believed in me no matter what happened.... spiral continues. It's continued for a long time... but I kept chugging the medication, and the fatty hamburgers for comfort, and I kept pushing a lot of the stuff inside me deep down in the pit where I feed it bacon and donuts.

 I recently found myself on a stage with an amazing group of people who gave me a bit of a boost to my confidence. And I think I'm actually pretty good at what I'm doing in that realm... but I recently saw my performance, recorded by wife. And I was good. And I was fat. I was so fat, I kept seeing myself as this big huge fat guy on the stage who wouldn't be able to do the physical stuff that I was doing at that moment... and I stuffed another chip in my mouth and shook my head. I needed a new bag of chips shortly after that. And a soda.

Okay, so here we are about a month after that and I go to Thanksgiving with my in-laws where I'm sledding with my son and I can barely get up, my back is killing me, I'm in a lot of pain, and my mother in law is recommending that I get surgery for my stomach. One of those "Gastro" things or something... it's basically a plug to keep me from stuffing elevensies down the gullet. And I'm feeling really badly about myself, but I plaster on a fake smile and go through the weekend. And we're home, and I'm awake, and my brother-in-law posts this video about a man who hurt his back pretty bad during his time in the service. He wore leg braces and a back brace and he ballooned up, doctors telling him there was no hope, and he was utterly without hope. His frame was like mine.... the stomach pressed out, the back arched, and everything. I was already crying before he started talking about how someone did believe in him... and he went on to do this work out program developed by pro-wrestler Diamond Dallas Page. At the end of the video he had lost well over 100 lbs after a year... and he was running down the street.

TEARS!!! Oh yeah, and anyone who watches that video without getting a little choked up is a heartless sack, so don't get on my case for crying. I did, I'm not ashamed, and I went and woke up my wife... and I made her watch it. And I made her order DDPYoga for me... that's my christmas present.

I received the program in the mail today, watched the thirteen positions and how they're done, and gave it a try... and it kicked my ass.

 Let me clarify... because maybe you don't understand: I've tried diets before. I've tried working out before. And I'm in so much pain after my surgery that every work out results in me laying up for days afterward because I can't move, because I've worn myself out, and I get hurt. I collapse right afterward, soaked in sweat, breathing hard, gasping for air, and desperate for it to end. I've also drunk shakes, counted "points" and done all the other shit that everyone else tries and falls out of for whatever reason... it works for many, but I couldn't find the will to keep it up. It doesn't motivate me. It doesn't keep me going.

 When I say that DDPYoga kicked my ass, I'm not talking about pain. I'm not in any pain right now... it's been about three hours and I feel good AND tired. I'm worn out but I'm not gasping for air, I'm not clutching at a muscle that's sore, I'm not wincing as I move. My back feels tired but stretched out, my arms are worn out with a little buzz from the activity, and I don't think I'll be sore in the morning.

There's a nutrition program that is specifically not referred to as a diet... it's just nutrition with advice on how to change your eating habits. The recipes here sound good, and there isn't this dependence to count points or measure anything... just some good sounding recipes with decent ingredients.

 This isn't going to be easy... cutting fried foods and various other things won't be easy. That's how I've traditionally found comfort... but I'm going to try and I'm going to take notes in this blog. I'll post a picture soon for that world famous "Before" picture so many people have. Every month there will be a new picture... just one... to note my progress. I'm hoping to write once every two weeks regarding my progress (or lack) on the program.

 Wish me luck. -Mark

PS: A special thanks to the people who are helping me, some without even knowing it: Firstly, David... that video kicked me in the ass and I needed that. My wife, Robbie Ann, who has always pushed me to find the best parts of myself. My son, who is always a motivator in my life... and who is already having fun laughing at me trying to do these basic positions. And Jordan, whose intention to mock me has also given me encouragement to just use my weight loss as a means to kill his "fat" jokes. =)