June 5th, 2012: Knocking on the 250’s door folks. I dropped down to 260 today and feel as light as a 260 lb. feather.
Nine days, right? Nine days until the half-marathon. Nobody to compete against except myself. I am a formidable opponent of myself, though. When I pick a fight with myself, I have to remember to pack a flashlight, because there aren’t gonna be any quick knockouts in the Me vs. Me battle.
I have actually punched myself on like 3 occasions, and those were moments of pure, unadulterated anger. I’m not exactly sure what caused the first two, but the third I remember was because I drove down to the greenbelt at the river to run my dogs. I wasn’t wanting to run, but talked myself into it – willed myself into it. Got all ready, which is no mean feat with all the gear I use. Then, when I got down to the river, I realized I forgot the dog’s leashes, and that’s when the bomb in my head exploded and I was forced to punch some sense into myself.
The program requires patience. The program is teaching me patience.
June 5th, 2020: So what do you do when you have success with the program, and someone else either a) doesn’t, or b) has not passed the stage of pre-contemplation, i.e. they don’t know or won’t accept they have a problem? This is very dangerous and complex ground. By actively helping at all, you might really be fucking up; and not actively helping goes against the very nature of a caring human being.
There are two distinct tracks I have to be aware of in my life: a professional helper, i.e. psychologist and/or personal trainer, vs. a personal helper, i.e. friend or family.
It’s so much easier to be the professional helper. Although it’s complex, and too often you don’t get clear feedback for your efforts, three things make it quite different. The first is that there’s more legitimate resources as a professional. Colleagues, professors, experienced practitioners, and training are available almost any time I need a consult. Second, there’s a lot of data and case studies and observations that bolster my belief in what I’m doing. Third, although I love almost all people, there are only a few close enough to me to short-circuit my wiring, so the professional me can compartmentalize and avoid a meltdown from others’ problems.
The personal me is perpetually confused about how to help, and I almost always feel like a hypocrite. If you didn’t know all of this from my writing, you may not know that I’m a walking eating disorder. You know I’ve got the issues, but I own them. As a parent, I realize my kids don’t really read this, and well, if you know your own kids enough, you’ll realize they probably won’t read what you write until after they’re 40 years old.
But what if someone you love needs help? What if they’ve got a weight problem, but not an eating disorder? Hell, I’m lost. I have a horrible fear of introducing an eating disorder by correcting someone about eating who isn’t asking me. If he ain’t asking, he’s in the pre-contemplation stage, and doesn’t realize there’s a problem. Where, in the manual of how to be a perfect parent, friend, sibling, etc., does it suggest how to gently introduce the nuclear dirty-bomb of an eating disorder by talking diet with a loved one. Where does it suggest you should push someone from pre-contemplation into, “uh-oh, I’m not good enough”?
When does fat that causes social problems turn into fat that causes medical problems? The former can be conquered by self-love, personality, and self-efficacy; none of which are easily obtained and kept. The latter we’re running out of clear medical solutions to address, if there ever were any to begin with.
There isn’t any manual on how to be a perfect parent, friend, or family member. Try my best, I guess. Eating was and is one of my favorite things about being a human. I fuckin hate to be told how to do my favorite thing, and will almost always do the opposite just on principle and pride. Truly, nobody is trying to take it from me, they just make what are probably good suggestions that don’t fit into my life’s vision at that point. Goddamn, I don’t wanna be that person that takes away or ruins, for a lifetime, something from someone I love.
