February 9th, 2012: Yeah, gained a pound. Big deal. If it happened like 3 days in a row, I’d think about adjusting, but this is par for the course. This ride’s been like that – up and down. More down than up, that’s all that matters. There’s no way it can’t work. People don’t get fatter eating smaller portion sizes, and if there was anybody that’d happen to, it would be me, and it’s not happening, so we’re safe. 317.
I find myself in a weird zone these past few days, where there’s NO WAY I would ever quit, but the ten reasons I have for doing this are harder to call to mind, i.e., they’re not as crystal clear as in the beginning. I realize this is normal, too, and like I said, I know it’s just a weird zone. Not uncomfortable, just a different feeling than I’ve ever felt. The best I could compare it to would be like being in a running race (like back in my old days) where on the first lap of the mile, or a quarter of the way through the fat battle, you realize this is going to suck the whole way, but you’re warmed up, you’re movin’ out, and you’re not quitting. But you’ve put away those acute anger feelings of why you’re doing this. You had them at the starting gun (for me January 2nd), and oh, they’re still there, they’re just kind of buried in the daily happenings. You only know you have to win. No matter what. And you know if you keep at this pace, even if it is slow, you will win, just like that damn tortoise.
Since I’m not really on a flat track running a race at the moment, I have the opportunity to call to mind some more reasons for this, to take a second to directly think of them.
1) In all the stick figure drawings of children in which I have been featured, I am the only fat stick figure. Every other person in the drawing has stick limbs, stick neck, and a stick torso. I am the only stick figure who has a circular, a teardrop shaped, or an oval torso. I WILL LOSE THIS WEIGHT.
2) When I go to amusement parks like Disneyworld or the State Fair, I am the only one in line who does not care what the ride does, I only care if the damn bar-thing will close all the way so I don’t going flying out of it (like on that pirate-ship ride). I WILL LOSE THIS WEIGHT.
3) When I board the airplane, I am the only one who has absolutely no fear of flying because that fear has been totally displaced by the utter dread of being humiliated by not fitting in the goddamn seat. I WILL LOSE THIS WEIGHT.
February 9th, 2020 (retrospective): Somehow, I knew that by following the process, I’d get somewhere. I saw the numbers on the scale go down, and I won’t bullshit myself or anyone else, the number on the scale was the Process God’s archangel construct – the rock on which I built the church. It’s simply the most concrete data you have throughout the process, and obviously a recurring theme here.
I also had the feeling that somehow that scale number was going to represent some kind of launch pad. Maybe it could be analogous to the speed at which the pilot of an airplane begins to apply back pressure to the yoke, which then raises the nose of the aircraft to “rotate” it to the angle that it starts to fly. This angle is specifically referred to as the “attitude” of the aircraft. How convenient for this analogy then! It’s the orientation of the aircraft in relation to the Earth’s horizon. Ya gotta love it. Interestingly enough, I had a scale number that represented the speed where I felt I could start pulling back on the stick to give me the right attitude to fly. Different units, I know, yet the physical and metaphysical dimensions of attitude can’t be ignored here. The plane will fly, and so will I. For a Boeing 747, that speed is somewhere between 160 to 180 miles per hour, “selected” by the laws of classic physics. For me that weight was 189 pounds, “selected” by common human metaphysics that dictated to me that if I lost 161 pounds from the original starting weight of 350 pounds, I’d be able to say I was a loser of weight, but not a loser at life.
For the record, losing the weight really was just as I described above: a launch-pad. The scale means everything and nothing. It is/was the focal point of my attitude, which then drives my behavior – to an extent. Obviously an uptick on the scale doesn’t entirely determine my day, but to see the number stay the same or even go down a bit once in awhile gave me/gives me that little tiny vitamin-vote of confidence that maybe I do know something about something in life, and that confidence tends to bleed over into other endeavors. It’s called self-efficacy. See below.
Self-Efficacy by Albert Bandura
Stanford University
| Bandura, A. (1994). Self-efficacy. In V. S. Ramachaudran (Ed.), Encyclopedia of human behavior (Vol. 4, pp. 71-81). New York: Academic Press. (Reprinted in H. Friedman [Ed.], Encyclopedia of mental health. San Diego: Academic Press, 1998). |
Perceived self-efficacy is defined as people’s beliefs about their capabilities to produce designated levels of performance that exercise influence over events that affect their lives. Self-efficacy beliefs determine how people feel, think, motivate themselves and behave. Such beliefs produce these diverse effects through four major processes. They include cognitive, motivational, affective and selection processes.
A strong sense of efficacy enhances human accomplishment and personal well-being in many ways. People with high assurance in their capabilities approach difficult tasks as challenges to be mastered rather than as threats to be avoided. Such an efficacious outlook fosters intrinsic interest and deep engrossment in activities. They set themselves challenging goals and maintain strong commitment to them. They heighten and sustain their efforts in the face of failure. They quickly recover their sense of efficacy after failures or setbacks. They attribute failure to insufficient effort or deficient knowledge and skills which are acquirable. They approach threatening situations with assurance that they can exercise control over them. Such an efficacious outlook produces personal accomplishments, reduces stress and lowers vulnerability to depression.
In contrast, people who doubt their capabilities shy away from difficult tasks which they view as personal threats. They have low aspirations and weak commitment to the goals they choose to pursue. When faced with difficult tasks, they dwell on their personal deficiencies, on the obstacles they will encounter, and all kinds of adverse outcomes rather than concentrate on how to perform successfully. They slacken their efforts and give up quickly in the face of difficulties. They are slow to recover their sense of efficacy following failure or setbacks. Because they view insufficient performance as deficient aptitude it does not require much failure for them to lose faith in their capabilities. They fall easy victim to stress and depression.
