Looking forward to 2013

Now that I have fully reflected on the year that is almost behind us, it is time to look forward to the new year. Resolutions are a slippery slope. With a resolution, there is a stigma. This idea that you work super hard in January and then not so much after that. It becomes tradition to have a series of resolutions that you ignore after month one of the new year. Hell, it happens to me every year. However, this year, I feel like I have a renewed sense of who I am and more importantly, who I want to be. So I am not thinking of them as resolutions, but as goals. I have a series of goals I am shooting for in this coming year. By putting them here, you all get to hold me accountable for them. 2012 was a new beginning for me. 2013 has to be taking that new beginning and pushing it further. I did well in 2012. I did enough to make to the make playoffs, but I was Yankees. I made it to the playoffs, but I could not get to the championship. I need to work harder so I can be the Giants. World Series Champions in 2 out of the last 3 years. So I have to have a good plan of attack and it has to be all encompassing. This is, remember, not just about my physical well being, after all. So what I have done is break this into sections.

My physical health:

The first thing I need to do is eliminate all fast food and all soda. I have done a good job of limiting them, but I need to kick them completely. My mind no longer wants them, and my body can no longer really handle them, so I have to remind myself of that and just stay away. I believe my biggest 2012 triumph was eliminating Rockstars from my diet, so this is the logical next step! In terms of food I also am going to expand my culinary adventures by cooking something new once a week. I want to make sure I do not get bored of eating the same things, so I need to add new recipes. I will be making sure they are healthy meals, but I want to be able to expand what I know how to cook. I want to figure out what will actually fill me up and what better way to do that than by trying all kinds of fun new dishes!

I need to ramp up my physical activity too. I need to get back in the regular habit of going to the gym. I want to go down there 6 days a week for at least 30 minutes a day unless we have a busy day at work, then I will go for 15 minutes, but I need to stay in the habit. I also want to start playing sports again. I want to buy a basketball and shoot hoops here at my apartment complex. I need to make sure I do something active every single day. I cannot let myself sit on the couch all day at all. I need this to be a serious habit for me. Also, I have decided I want to sign up for 3 5Ks this coming year. I want to spread them out and improve on each one, but my goal is to sign up and participate in 3 different ones this year. This is going to be one of my biggest challenges! Once I have acquired a full time teaching job, I want to sign up for a real gym and spend some time with a trainer to help me figure out what would be best for me.

My mental/emotional/creative health

I find that I am happier when I read more, so it stands to reason that I need to read often. My goal is to read a book a week this year. I know this will be tough when I get busier, but I need to make the time to do this because it does make me happy and it calms me down. It also stokes my creative juices, which leads me to my next one which is to write more for me. I love this blog and I love reviewing movies, but I need to write for me. I have a story idea and the beginnings of a story, so I need to give myself time to flush it out. This means setting aside time every month to just write, which is what I plan to do. I want to have a good working draft of this story before my birthday in July. From there I can figure out goes next, but this is something I need to feel like I am still challenging myself creatively. I also am setting a goal to spend less time on my cell phone. I want to put away all of the electronics and enjoy the world around me.

I also want to continue this honesty thing within myself and with other people. I want to continue to get at the root of my issues. I am not sure if this will be a meditation thing, or if the writing will help with it, but I know I like feeling cleansed and I will continue to do that. I also am setting a goal to talk more when things are bugging me and talking to the person the problem is with. I know allowing things to build up has not done me any good in my life. I need to trust the people who love me that if I have a problem we can work it out together and not that the other person is going to just toss me aside. I need to work on strengthening my relationships with people and be open to starting new friendships and working hard at them to make them work. I also want to continue to be the kind of guy who is worthy of such an awesome girlfriend. I know working on myself will help strengthen the relationship Martina and I have and that is incredibly important to me.


So there you have it, 2013 is around the corner and I, for one, am excited. In fact, this might be the most excited I have been to start a new year. I feel good about myself and am now working on feeling great about myself. What about you? What are some of the ways you are going to try and better yourself this year? How can we help push each other? Remember, if you read this, I am here for you and am rooting for you! Together we are Giant!!

We must look back before looking forward

The other day while I was at work my manager was talking to me and randomly she stopped the conversation, looked at me and said "Kyle, you might be the most cheerful employee we have had in a long time." Me, cheerful? That cannot possibly be. I am not cheerful. Hell, I had a teacher in high school who was constantly talking about my pessimistic demeanor. I have never been mistaken for a cheerful guy. It left me thinking because I have been been hearing that a lot lately. People telling me "You look really happy" or some variation that includes a synonym of cheerful. The key is that they are not saying I am "acting" cheerful, just that I am cheerful. This is a sharp turn from where I have spent so much of my life. I have no idea if people have really known just how unhappy I have been for most of my life. When you try your best to be funny, and to be a person who everyone else can lean on, I am not sure the world can tell that you hate yourself, which is kind of the point. Now, though, I realize that I am happy and I am cheerful. I think for the first time in my life, I am just happy with who I am and where things are going. It is a strange feeling and I one that I think I occasionally still try to resist.

That fact of the matter is, being happy takes work. I have seen this article from Cracked.com around Facebook, and it is about the work it takes to change your situation in life and find a way to be happy. Well, these last 7 months have been all about trying to change my situation. it has been about looking inside myself and figuring out all of this "stuff" that has been holding back. It was about trying to realize why I spent so much of my day putting myself down. It was about figuring out why I take every chance at happiness and find a way to talk myself out of it. It has been about finding out who I have been, who I am and who I hope to be. It has been tough, and I know it will continue to be tough. It is much easier to sit on the couch playing video games, than it is to go to the gym, or go on a walk. It is much easier to order pizza, or go to fast food, than it is to plan, prepare and cook a meal. it is easier to complain about the ills of your life than it is to really sit down and analyze why you feel a certain way. Frankly speaking, this year has been crazy exhausting. It has been all been worth it. 2012 has been, at times, the most frustrating year of my life, but it has also been the most rewarding. And now it is ending and people are telling me I look happy. Not that I am acting happy, but that I look happy. I have a general look of happiness. I am a cheerful person. I cannot really wrap my head around it.

let me be clear, this is the best news of this year. Yes, I have an amazing girlfriend, who I can credit for helping me figure this out. I finished my Teaching Credential this year and due to my student teaching, I know for sure I want to teach. I know exactly what I want to do, and it has added to this monumental year. But more than anything, it has been my own work that has made me feel better. I am roughly 45 pounds lighter than I was to start the year, which is key, but it is more than that. In all honesty, if I kept living my life this way, but never lost anymore weight, I would still feel so much better about myself. I feel as if this year I unlocked something within myself that had been stuffed down by self doubt, constant negativity and downright loathing. Now, I understand so much of why these nagging feelings persisted for so long. It is so freeing. The biggest moment of self realization was when I realized, my weight was not the only thing making my unhappy, I just hid behind it, because it was the easiest thing to point to. It was the obvious thing. Now that I have realized that, I have been working on everything else. I am freeing myself from my toxins. A soul cleanse, if you can allow me a moment to be that guy.

Happiness is a choice. It seems like such a stupid thing to say, but it is. We make a choice to do what it takes to be happy, or we make a choice that it is too much work and we lay in bed with Netflix and sleep away the sadness. It took me a long time to figure that out, because it required looking into the abyss of ugliness about myself. This journey, and the ability to share it with all of my real life and cyber friends has caused me to unchain myself from the bonds of my own unhappiness. I am not no longer a slave to my own sadness. I am no longer a slave to fast food. I am no longer a slave to really sugary drinks. I am more active than I have ever been and I am in less constant pain in my legs than I have ever been. Bad days no longer completely destroy me, because I understand myself better now. I understand that bad days are not the universe personally slapping me and keeping me down. Even though I do not have the job I want, I look forward to waking up in the morning these days. I cannot remember the last time where I went months of actually enjoying getting up and being out in the world. Martina might be able to refute this, but I do not think I complained once while we were wandering around the Galleria yesterday and that is insane. For years I hated being out in the world for that long.

2012 will go down as one of the most memorable years of my life. I completed a teaching credential which began when I decided to go back to college to get my degree back in 2004. I got to play one of my dream roles as the Pharaoh in "Joseph." I took a giant flying leap of faith in my relationship by moving in with Martina, which has turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. I think, however, I will most fondly remember this year for this blog and what this journey has done for me. When I walk down the street I look up at the world now, not down at my feet. I smile at strangers, in the least creepy way possible, I hope. I answer my phone when people call me. When I get invited out, I always actually try to find a way to go out. I enjoy the company of more than like four people in my life. This is all because one day I just had enough of feeling broken all of the time. I got tired of waiting to be fixed and decided to fix myself. No one was going to fix me, except for me.

The last thing I want to say, is that a byproduct of this blog that I did not expect, is this sense of community I feel. I often get e-mails or Facebook messages of encouragement, or stories of triumph from friends, or even people just knowing I will listen without judgement as they emotionally purge something that is going on in their lives. I love it all. I hope, as this blog and journey continue, that you will all continue to contribute. The support is lovely. Dare I say, I love you all in some way.

My once favorite meal

One of the most fascinating aspects of NBC's The Biggest Loser is when they show what the favorite meal of each contestant was and how bad it was for the contestant. One of the main reasons I never felt I could actually be on that show is because of this episode. Typically the favorite meal has thousands and thousands of calories. These are people who just eat and eat and eat. I am not that way. I always get just a bit offended when people tell me I should go on that show. I know they all mean it in the best way possible because generally the people in my life think America would just fall in love with me, because of all my awesomness. However, I do not see myself as being unhealthy enough for that show. I am obese, but the guys on that show start at least 50lbs heavier than I was at my biggest. That is getting beside the point. The point is the meal. During the course of this journey I have done a pretty good job of cutting back on all fast food. I have had fast food less than 20 times since March. I am not where I want to be, but groceries have still been an issue, so I do occasionally get some fast food. I have only had fast food burgers five or six times since march, which is pretty remarkable for me. For a while I have had this idea to revisit my once favorite meal and track how I felt buying it and eating it.

I am finally feeling better and got back to the gym for the first time in a few weeks, so I decided today was a good day to give this is a shot. For those of you who do not know, my favorite meal has long been the Double Western Bacon Cheesburger from Carl's Jr. I used to get it with a large order of chili cheese fries and a large Dr. Pepper. This was my go-to meal for many occasions. It was comfort food, celebration food, late night post-work food and any other occasion I could concoct in my brainspace. I have always known it was just a terrible meal, but I could not help myself. I craved it. It immediately made me feel better, even if that glorious feeling was fleeting, which of course, it was. Most glorious fast food feelings are fleeting. That is how fast food works. Before I go into the experience today, let's chart some of the nutritional value of this meal:

Burger: up to 1,000 calories, almost 2,000mg of sodium, and 15 grams of sugar
Chili cheese fries: 820 calories, nearly 2,000mg of sodium,
Large Dr. Pepper (44oz): 534 calories, 128 grams of sugar.

Doing the math that is 2,354 calories in one meal. A few weeks ago I had to track my food intake for 3 days and the recommended caloric intake for me for the day was roughly 2,700 calories and because I am trying to lose weight, I was coming in at less than 2,000 calories a day. What that means is every time I eat this meal, I was nearly at my recommended caloric intake for the ENTIRE DAY!!

First of all, I felt judged ordering this meal today. I could feel the judgement dripping off the voice of the woman in the drive-thru. Secondly, they were out of Dr. Pepper. To apologize, they threw in onion rings for free. Oh great, just throw fried food at the fatty to appease him! I had to settle for Cherry Coke. The whole way home I could just feel my stomach screaming at me not to throw this food down my throat. For years I constantly craved this meal and here I am nearly a year removed from eating it, and now everything in my body was telling me not to. This is huge progress for me. I am not sure why I cannot stop craving soda, but at least my body no longer craves this burger. In fact, I am rejecting the burger. Still, I soldiered on. If you know anything about my eating habits, you know they are weird. I always put part of my favorite part of the meal off to the side to eat it at the end. I eat all of one thing before moving onto the next. With fast food, I always eat the fries before the burger. It is how I roll. As soon as I opened the container featuring the fries, I started to regret this decision. Just the smell of these chili cheese fries was turning my stomach. However, at the first bite, I was in heaven. God, the taste good. Why did I ever leave you chili cheese fries? 8 bites in now, oh man, this is not going well. Why stomach, why?? It is like I am eating, but nothing is being quenched. I am still so hungry, it does not taste good, and it is just draining my energy. Last two bites, should I even finish it? Yes, I must, I must remind myself why I am not doing this anymore.

Fries finished. Burger unwrapped, a slice of bacon pulled off to the side.

First 1/4:
This is great. I love that the onion rings are still crunchy and that BBQ sauce is delicious. Why is the burger so salty? Stomach revolting a little bit. Getting...sleepy...

After half:
WHY IS THIS BURGER SO SALTY???? feeling so heavy...Is this is end of the road for me? Am I dying?

After 3/4:
Is there a salt lick in this burger? Questioning every decision I have ever made that led me to this specific point. Having to sit back on the couch. Television just noise now. confidence sinking, self worth sinking.....

Finished burger:
Why do I not feel accomplished? Where am I? I need water, desperately. Need...a...nap. How did I do this on a weekly basis?


Here I sit 2+ hours later and nothing is okay. My stomach is unsettled, my brain hurts, If misery could be personified, I would be that. I have no energy whatsoever. I just want to lay down for the rest of the year. It is amazing to me what 9 months can do to a person. I used to get excited at the mere thought of going to Carl's Jr. it was like a little party for me every damn time. Now, I have no idea how I ever did it. Was some of this hyperbole for entertainment purposes, yes, but the feeling is very real. I loathe this decision today, but I also think I needed it. I needed to know that things are in fact changing. Not just my weight and even how I feel, but that what I want is changing. I have trained myself to not crave this awful food any longer. It is a massive victory for me. I need to keep moving forward and knocking out all fast food. It is such a better lifestyle to not eat it. When I do not eat fast food I just like things better. The colors are brighter and all of that nonsense.

I ate more in that one meal calorie wise than I do in a whole day now, yet I am hungrier than usual. All that I want is to eat and sleep, which could have been the title of my memoir if I was writing about my most depressing days. The goal is to train myself to not have food=feelings. I know I will never be a "eat to live" kind of guy. I like to eat good food. I love taste, so I have to understand how to get the best taste honestly. For example, last night I had the best salad I have ever tasted. I cannot spend the money to eat that salad every day, but I know I can make salads at home that are tasty with the right ingredients. This is an on-going process for me.

Every day I have to get up and try again, whether I had a good day or a bad day the day before. I know that my life is better when I do not fill my body with fast food and that has been proven today. After eating my once favorite meal, I do not care about anything. It led me to the insight that perhaps I used to feed myself this meal on a regular basis because I wanted to not care about anything, or feel anything. Some people use drugs or alcohol or sex to numb the pain. Drugs freak me out and are expensive, alcohol gets expensive and often does not taste very good and no one wanted to have sex with me, so I have used food to numb myself to feeling anything. As I prepare for the life of a teacher, and hopefully father, I need to feel and I need to feel good. I have to be some sort of role model to people and I cannot do that if I am constantly numbing myself to the experiences of life.

One of my favorite things about this blog is that I never know where a post is going to take me. I had every intention of writing a (hopefully) funny blog about eating a burger and as I typed, I realized these transcendent things about my life. The more confident I grow on the outside, the more willing I am to be introspective and honest with myself. The writing allows me to be able to put it into words in a mostly coherent way. It makes me wonder why I ever stop writing about everything. Not sure how many people are actually reading this thing on a consistent basis, but I think it is worth it just for myself. So thanks Erik for talking me into it.

The universe RSVPed NO for my pity party

Well gang, here I sit still sick. Going on 8 days of sickness. This never happens to me. I typically have a champion immune system, but this sickness has worked its way deep into my soul. Still coughing, still sniffling and still generally feeling "bleh." This sickness, I think, is a manifestation of how I have been feeling lately. I desperately want a full a time job. In my part time job (which I am relieved to have) hours are being cut and I am in need of another job. Oh joy, the job hunt. All of the negative feelings kind of came to a head yesterday. Yesterday was my second straight day of sitting at home trying to kick this sickness. All I want is to stop sniffling. I was just on verge of a pity party. I had snacks, decorations, and drinks. Then something happened.

As I left my house to go tutor, I put on the jacket I bought last December. When I bought it, it was just a bit snug. It worked for the style of jacket and did not bother me, but it was a bit snug. yesterday I put it on and it was baggy. It was a size too big. At first, I shook it off. Well, it got stretched out in the move, or some nonsense. I was not in the mood to be happy. This was my pity party damn-it! I was sick, and tired. I needed to whine and be full of self pity. When my student showed up without his essay, I knew I was back in pity party mode. That was until he told me that he felt strong enough about his essay that he turned it in early. Two months ago this college student could barely form a coherent paragraph and now he is turning in final drafts without making sure we go over it together? How awesome is that? He gave me a copy to look over and no joke, it was pretty good for him. Because he turned it in early he gets half a letter grade bump, so he was not worried. I was so proud of him for making this giant leap. He had a strong thesis and some great ideas and it was the best effort of his in terms of grammar. I was so sure this was not working, and here he is stating to get it. He wants to work together through next semester too.

When tutoring was done, I came home and the dinner I was making smelled great and it tasted great and Martina and I had a lovely night together at home. At this point I realized the universe was not only rejecting an invitation for a pity party, it was not going to let me HAVE a pity party. The universe was slapping me across the face with all of the things that are going right in my life. Yes, I am sick. No, I am not a teacher and my job is not what I want, but look at all of the things that are going well. I am a size smaller than I was at this time last year. I clearly WILL be a teacher, and I truly believe I will be a good teacher. On top of that, I have this wonderful girlfriend who takes care of me when I am sick and trust me, I am no fun to be around when I am sick. I am more stubborn when I am sick than when I am healthy. it is obnoxious. I can hear myself being obnoxious and for whatever reason I refuse to stop it.

If you ask anyone who knows me very well, they can tell you that I am not one to attach cosmic importance to events, big or small. It is not in my nature to think the universe it trying to talk to me, or give me signs. However, I am finding it hard to ignore. I have been feeling very empty without a classroom. I have been wondering if maybe teaching is not in my future. Perhaps I am not meant for that profession, that life. Then twice this week I have heard from students from last year. Both of them told me how great it was to have me as their teacher. One of them said some of the nicest things I have ever heard. How could I possibly have a pity party when people out there are telling me how thankful they are that they were in my class. How can I possibly ignore the timing? Right as I was getting the most unsure of my path, these two people lit up my path so it was as clear as it had ever been. If anyone is meant for anything, I am meant for teaching. The universe is clearly saying that.

This is not to say that I am going to change my mind completely about cosmic importance. I think if you go looking for signs, you can find them anywhere and can attach importance to anything and when things go wrong, you give yourself an out for personal responsibility. However, if the signs are there when you are decidedly not looking for them, how can you turn your back on them? All things considered, my life is pretty good. I think every once in a while the universe reminds me that. It tells me that my pity party is unnecessary. I have nothing in my own life that needs pity. I have a path, all of you amazing readers, a beautiful-smart-kind-loving girlfriend, and am 40+ lbs lighter. Thank you universe to slapping me across the face with the reality that my life is pretty sweet. I think we all forget how good things can be, especially when the weather is crappy. We are conditioned to focus on the negative. We think about the money we do not have, the extra weight we have, or how this other person has more than we do. Every so often we need to stop, and really look at the positives in our own life. They are there.

This is not about some "I am lucky to be breathing" nonsense. No, really look around you and discover what you have going for you. You, yes you. You are beautiful. You probably have an awesome family, or an awesome group of friends who have become a family. You have great things going on, even in the face of sadness, or in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds. There is something that will get you through it. And to be completely honest with YOU specifically, if you need help, if you are struggling, if you need reminding, ask me. Know this, if I know you in my real life, I want to help. If I do not know in my real life and you stumbled onto this blog, I want to help. We are all in this crazy life together and if you have taken the time to get to know me through this blog, know this, I am here for you. I love to listen, I love to hug and comfort. We all struggle and we all find a way through it. I learned a long time ago that climbing out of a hole alone is incredibly difficult, but climbing out of a hole with someone reaching down to help pull you out, is easier. If you need a hand, I promise you, mine is available.

The ever evolving schedule

Sorry for the absence dear readers. It has been a busy few weeks and I am still adjusting to a new schedule. Which brings me to the main topic of this blog entry.

It is very easy to work out, eat right and get proper sleep when you have nothing to do all day. It is also relatively easy to maintain a regular schedule if your job has a regular schedule. Unfortunately things have not worked out in my favor this fall and I find myself back working at a movie theater. I am incredibly thankful to have a regular job and paycheck, but working at a movie theater presents its own series of challenges in my fight for health. The biggest being that it completely messes with my internal schedule. Some days I have to work until 1am, some days I have to be at work at 10am. My sleep schedule has gone completely out the window which has very much affected my energy level. This is one of those moments where I realize how important sleep is, or at least a regular sleep schedule. My body does not know what to do when I get off work at 1am and need to unwind, so I am up until 2 or 3 in the morning some days, and other days I am so beat I fall asleep at 10:30. It is something on which I am still searching for a grip. I need to find a happy medium.

Having a job, finally, has also done things to my eating habits. I tend to eat later now, especially if I work at night and do not get a lunch break until 9 at night. I am still finding ways to mostly eat healthy. I am eating more Subway now. I know the bread is not good, but I am packing my sandwiches with many more vegetables than I have in the past. My biggest concern is not letting myself go hungry. During my many years at a movie theater, I have noticed I tend to let myself go hungry a lot because I do not want to change my eating patterns, but I know I need to. Letting myself go hungry is not going to solve anything because it will lead to gross binge eating. Once we get groceries back in our house, I am going to make a real effort to make lunch more often. More likely is making bigger dinners and taking leftovers. All of my life I have underestimated how great leftovers can be. It makes me want to go back in time when my mom would throw away leftovers because no one would eat them. I would eat them now. I have noticed that when Martina cooks she tends to cook more, giving us leftovers and I tend to cook just for the two of us for one meal. That may change soon. I need to make sure the allure of popcorn does not overtake me.

Which leads me to the next point: temptation. While on shift, I can drink all of the soda and eat all of the popcorn I want, for free. 3 weeks in and I have had a total of ZERO soda and only roughly 3 cups of popcorn. BOOM!! My last movie theater, I would have competitions with people about who could drink the most Mountain Dew during a shift and so far here I have not had any soda at all. I am not saying I have not had any soda in the last few months, but I am really proud of myself for not giving in at work where I can drink so much of it for free. However, I am probably most proud of how little popcorn I have had. When I do popcorn at work, I load it with butter and popcorn salt, which is worse for you than regular salt. It is heavy tasty salt. Knowing I get free cheese too makes my will power even more awesome because popcorn with popcorn salt and cheese is heaven. It truly tastes like what I imagine food in obese heaven tastes like. I was so worried about all of this temptation and so far I am proud of myself. For those who know me very well, giving myself actual credit for something is new and still makes me slightly uncomfortable.

Lastly, I want to talk about something completely different. Because of the blog and my Facebook statuses about my weight loss, it is pretty well known that I am fighting for my health. This leads to many conversations about it. People want to know what I am doing, how much I have lost and tell me how great I look and how much happier I look. My entire life I have never believed anyone when they tell me I look like I have lost weight. I feel it is something skinny people say to fat people to make them feel better about themselves (this sentence is decidedly vague). I have always felt people said it to me to be encouraging, and then when I walk away they turn to each other and comment how I look as obese as ever. I know I am losing weight. I can feel it in my body, I can see it when I put on winter clothes I have not worn in a year. Logically I know this is working, but still, when people comment on how good I look, all I can think about is how full of crap they are. I cannot help but think they are just being sweet friends who want me to succeed but deep down are thinking how nothing has changed. This mentality HAS to change inside of me. It has taken me a long time to accept that people are rooting for me. It has taken me months to even sort of grasp why so many people are on my side. Who am I to have all of these people invested in my journey? I am constantly being sent words of encouragement, inspirational quotes, videos, stories and people are sharing their own battles and demons with me. It is overwhelmingly touching, so why can't I just accept the compliments like an adult instead of stammering on about how I still have so far to go? I have worked damn hard and deserve to accept people saying nice things. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. And it will continue to be the hardest thing I have ever done. I am not rewarding myself with brownies or pie, so why shouldn't I reward myself with the acceptance of nice words? That is my goal, to take the compliments as tasty brain rewards.


Oh one last tiny thing: Thanksgiving is the one day where it appears perfectly acceptable to binge eat and it is the one day of the year I never worry about binge eating. I do not care for turkey, potatoes, or pumpkin pie, or any fruit pies. I am rarely, if ever, stuffed on Thanksgiving.

the clothing issue

I hate shopping for clothes. I have almost always hated shopping for clothes. When you cannot fit into the clothes in the regular section, it sucks. Most of the time I have to shop for clothes in specialty stores designed specifically for fat guys. Feeling defeated before you ever go to the store is never good, but that is how it has always been. The bigger the clothes, the more expensive they are as well. I never get a shirt/sweat shirt from shows I do because they cost more when you get to the XXXL and XXXXL sizes. There is no way I could ever buy a shirt at a concert because they do not even bother to carry my size. Also, forget about thrift stores! My theater friends love to host themed parties, but I can never dress up because there are no thrift stores that carry my size. If I do not already have it in my closet, I cannot participate. It makes me incredibly self conscious and always has made me feel that way. Just thinking about buying new clothes fills me with anxiety because I do not get to always choose things I love, but things that fit me.

I recently started a part time job at a movie theater and I needed to pick up plain black pants ( i have a pair but they are too nice to worry about butter stains) and a few white t-shirts to wear under the polo I was issued. I was not looking forward to it because I have not been feeling at my best lately. I was sure that I was going to have to go up a size from the last time I bought pants a few years back when I lost 40 pounds. When I was at my heaviest (roughly when I was like 23-27 years old) I was wearing a size 60 in pants. The last time I bought pants I bought size 52 and 54. I was sure I was going to need at least size 56 last week. I got to JC Penney (the cheapest place to buy big and tall clothes) and grabbed a pair of size 54 and 56 pants and slowly, achingly lumbered to the dressing rooms. The 56 were far too big and the 54 were too big as well. I was pleasantly surprised and bounded off to find smaller pants. This is something I NEVER get to do. I grabbed size 52 and just for fun, I grabbed a pair of discount size 50 pants. To my unbelievable surprise the size 50 pants fit! They were a bit snug, but they fit!! I am so close to being out of the 50s in pants, which has been a goal/struggle of mine for the last 5 years! Here I am sitting on the verge of achieving this massive goal. I am not afraid to say that I had tears in my eyes as I looked at myself. This is working!

After that shocking bit of awesome news, I remembered I had to buy t shirts. They did not have any XXXLT (my current t-shirt size) so I grabbed a XXXL t-shirt and gave it a shot. It fit perfectly. It was not too short over my stomach or too tight around my arms. This is a change from only 6 months ago! I thought I was going crazy, so just to push my luck, I went and grabbed a XXLT shirt and it fit! I did not buy the XXL shirt because I do not think a more fitted white shirt would do me any favors. To make sure it was not just the brand, I went out and grabbed other shirts. I was running around the store like a mad man. I can only imagine what employees were thinking of a guy running around their store half giggling, half crying, grabbing random clothes and trying them on! I realized that in the Big and Tall section I can fit into all brands of XXLT. In the regular sections, I can put on a XXL, but it does not fit....yet. For years I could not even pretend to cram into a XXL shirt and now I can actually put it on. That means I am so damn close to the biggest goal I have ever set for myself. It has been a dream of mine to wear XXL shirts because once I get there, I can start buying clothes in the regular person section almost exclusively. I am tearing up now as I type this out.

For the first time I can remember I left a department store feeling better than when I went in. I am smaller than I have been since I was a teenager. But more importantly, I believe I am healthier than I have been since I was a teenager. I can breathe easier. I do not cram food down my throat all times of day. I am figuring out how to be the best version of me. I know I am far away from my potential, but I am feeling so much better these days. The hard work is paying off. The other day I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I am not sure that has ever happened. I was looking at someone I did not hate, someone I was not feeling sorry for. I was looking at someone who is fighting. I looked at someone who is working hard and seeing results. I think I am finally starting to see the guy that Martina loves, that my friends see and that my family sees. I am finally starting to see me as I actually am and not some awful warped sense of who I think I am. I can finally see the weight loss in myself. I can see the physical and mental changes. After a long day this week, I did not cave and get Taco Bell. I am fighting and winning. My goal now is to be in a XXL t-shirt by the year anniversary of this journey in March. it is not going to be easy, but if I keep myself going, I believe I get there.


A quick note:

This weekend I saw one of my best friend's parents and my friend sent me a text that her mom thought I looked great and her mom did not even know about this journey. It is the first time someone who did not know what I was doing made that kind of comment. It felt awesome.

A quick note part two:

To everyone who told me I would eventually stop craving soda, you can all go to hell for being liars. I still want all of the soda all of the time.

Gym time.

The gym has always been one of my biggest enemies. Nothing makes me feel more out of place than being the fat guy at the gym. While I logically know no one is staring at me, I feel like a wild animal suddenly in a suburb. Everyone is wondering how I got there, if I was lost and they are all just waiting to see what I will do and how I will mess it up. This is compounded by the feeling of not knowing what I am doing at a gym. I need guidance. When I do not have said guidance I just feel like a car stuck in the mud, turning my wheels and not gaining any traction. In an attempt to ease myself into the idea of a gym membership and actually going to the gym, I am trying to get myself down to gym at the apartment complex. It is an unassuming, unintimidating lace and I think it is exactly what I need.

When you walk in, you are confronted with the tiniest room for a gym I could imagine. Directly in front of you is a stationary bike (my favorite). Placed on either side of the bike are treadmills. They are not uniform. it is a patchwork gym if ever there was one. Right next to the outside door is an elliptical machine. The Elliptical is the pineapple of the gym. It intimidates me beyond belief. There is too much going on and I am sure it will rip my limbs apart like an archaic torture device. I do not need the headline of my death to read Fat guy dies trying to operate gym machinery. (Wow, I would not be good at writing headlines, that is awful.) Attached to the wall to the left is a smallish television that has cable, but no remote control, so changing channels is kind of a process, but it is set to ESPN or CSN 95% of the time so it is good. On the other wall is a fan that is not pointing at any of the machinery. It exists and I assume it does blow air if you turn it on, but it does not do anyone any good who is trying to work out. Someone lazily screwed it to the ceiling without any sort of logic.

I have been back to the gym 4 out of the last 6 days. For a while I had a good rhythm going and then I got stalled and I stopped going. I am doing my best to get myself back in the habit. I need this. On Friday I updated my Facebook about my experience, but I want to expand upon it a bit. I walked into the gym, playlist already blaring (Jay-Z's "99 Problems") and sat down at the bike. Right before I got it started a guy walked in from the outside door. I had seen him once in passing. He was entering the gym as I was leaving it a few weeks ago. He set up at the treadmill to my right and we both were off. "99 Problems" led into Rage Against the machine's "Guerrilla Radio" and I had a good pace going on the bike. I had planned to do 15 minutes because it was my first day back, but this guy to my right was killing it on the treadmill, so I pushed myself. We looked at each other momentarily and he picked up his pace. We were pushing each other without really saying anything. We even hit our cool down at the same time. I got off the bike, stretched out for a minute, he did the same and before we parted ways he put his hand in the accepted position of a fist bump and I did the same. We fist bumped, nodded and went about our lives.

This is a great story for me for a few reasons. 1.) It made me feel cool. I rarely feel cool, so it is a great feeling. 2.) There was someone else at the gym and he was clearly not judging me. In fact, he appeared impressed, at least admired my attempt. This is the biggest reason this story makes me happy. This guy is in much better shape than I. He clearly goes to an actual gym, or plays a sport or something. He is the kind of guy I would be sure would judge me for walking into a gym. And here he was pushing me and acknowledging my work. It really pumped me up. My body hated me a few hours later, but it was well worth it. This is the kind of motivation I need to keep me going. If I ever get a full time job, I know I need to conquer my fear of the gym and get myself a membership and actually use it. However, I also know I need help. I have no idea what I am doing and how much of what I should be doing. I am good at following a plan. I just have no idea how to set up a plan that is good for me.

Saturday and Monday I was at the gym alone, and early this morning I was only able to get in because someone was already in it. Our key is with Martina, something we clearly need to work on. Starting my day at like 7:45 with a work out felt strange. I was only up because the neighbors were yelling at each other. I decided I needed to remove myself from being within earshot, but the complex is not open yet, therefore the inside doors are not open. A kind neighbor let me into the gym and I went about my business. I am up to 30 minutes on the bike without any significant slowing down. I am going to push myself to get to 40 minutes by the end of this week. It might require some rises and falls in terms of my speed, but I can feel my legs getting a bit stronger. I also want to run on the treadmill, but I am not sure my knee is up for that yet. The knee brace I bought in march is now too big, and not even by a little bit. It will not even stay on any longer.

I am not where I want to be in terms of my health. I had visions of being much further along, but I know that if I keep making small steps, I will get there. That is my focus for now. I finally acquired a job. It is part time, but it will give me some place to be. It serves a purpose, so I think that will help with my motivation in other aspects of my life. I am still looking for a full time job, but this is something. Every little bit helps. The goal is to not let myself get too down that I am not improving by leaps and bounds. This is a marathon, not a sprint. I am still moving forward and that is where my focus needs to be. baby steps are better than no steps.

Love and happiness

Before I dive head first into what will probably be a complex post, allow me to apologize for my brief departure from updating the blog. I did not feel like I had much to report. My life is full of starts and stops right now and my journey to healthier living has followed suit. I have been unable to establish a good solid rhythm. Today's post is going to attempt to talk about love. I may fail miserably, this may end up too cheesy, or too depressing, or something completely off the wall, but it is a topic I find myself very desperately needing to explore right now.

Last night, I turned to Martina and admitted that I am struggling mightily right now. I cannot find a job, not even a minimum wage job. To be 32 years old and unable to support myself is the absolute worst feeling in the world. When Martina and I moved in together, I had every intention of being able to support us, not just me. Of course, Martina is not a girl who needs to be taken care of. She is no damsel in distress, which is a big part of why I love her, but as a man who grew up with a father who did everything he could to provide for his family, that is what I want. My father is proud of his work ethic. My father is proud that he has worked for the same company for nearly 30 years and he is proud that he never takes sick days. I want to be that guy. I want to be that proud of my work, but I have to have work first. I am getting a bit off topic. After admitting to Martina how much I was struggling, she kissed me and told me "We'll get through this." This was the first time in my life anyone has said "we" to me. I have great friends who have supported me in the worst of times, but it is always "You'll get through this." This idea of Martina and I as a we is still a new concept to me. You would think after a great 19 months, I would start to understand this concept better, but I am still surprised that there is someone who wants to be this much a part of my life.

There is a novel I read a few years ago and there is currently an amazing film adaptation of this novel in theaters. This story called the perks of being a wallflower features a great quote that goes "We accept the love we think we deserve." I am not going to dive into the context of the quote, you can read the book and see the film to figure it out, but coming out of the movie this weekend, the quote struck me even harder than it did when I first read the novel. This goes beyond romantic love though. It is about the friends we have, the love with which we surround ourselves on a daily basis. I have been blessed in my life. I have a tremendous family that rallies around each other in times of need and that loves, laughs and cheers together in those rare times we see each other. I have a batch of friends I do not get to see very often (some I have not seen in years), but I know they are there and I know if I ever see them, things would pick up like no time has passed. I have a few select great friends that I do talk to and see and I feel great about them, but I have never felt deserving of it.

Now I have this great girl by my side who I truly believe would do anything for me and it is amazing, but to feel deserving of it is a fight. My luck in the romance department has not in any way prepared me to be loved so fiercely. It is a foreign feeling and there are days when I have had to talk myself out of sabotaging it because I do not feel deserving of it. Those days are getting more and more rare, but the thoughts in my head exist. How does one get to a point when they feel truly deserving of this great thing called happiness? What have I done to deserve someone who laughs at every one of my jokes? Let us be real, I throw out my fair share of awful jokes, but there Martina is, laughing at all of them. There is no feeling better than this thing I am feeling every day I get to have her in my life. Yet, hovering just behind me is this feeling that it cannot be real.

How does this happen? Does it happen to anyone else? Am I just severely damaged? These are the questions I ask myself when I start to feel it. Over the last 7 months I have made giant leaps in accepting myself and trying to love myself. It is the hardest thing I have ever done and I know that it has been made easier by having Martina with me. She nurses me back to health, feeds me when I am crabby, sticks to her guns when I am being stubborn and stupid, but mostly she loves me in a way that I have never been loved before her. Why is it so hard to just accept that someone loves me? I am a good person, and I deserve to be happy, of that I am sure. I guess I am just not sure I deserve to feel this level of happiness. Normally when things are going so wrong in my life, I do not laugh as much as I do every night while we are cuddled on the couch watching television. It seems unusual to be generally happy even when things are going so wrong. Is this what actual happiness is? Is it genuine happiness when your entire life does not fall apart when things are not going well? If it is, why am I so afraid of it? Why would anyone be afraid to just be happy? What kind of nonsense is swirling around in my brainspace?

I have no idea where this undeserving feeling started. I cannot pinpoint a moment in my life. There is no breakthrough to be had. It is just a battle I continue to fight. I am winning the battle most days. It is a nice feeling. Conquering the demons of my mind is a great feeling, but I know the battle is not over. I am still equipping myself with the proper weapons, but I am in this thing for the long haul. I will keep battling because I know deep down I am worthy of enjoying this happiness I have in my life. When things are worth fighting for, you get up after every time you get knocked down. Yesterday I was down, today I am brushing myself off, bandaging up my wounds and resting my body for tomorrow, tomorrow I fight.

I need a reset button

The frustration of the last weeks reached a tipping point this weekend. This rut had been festering, living constantly inside me. It had burrowed itself into the deep folds of my brain, pitched a tent, and was hunting, cooking and eating what little confidence I had built up. (Apparently the part of my brain that creates metaphors is perfectly intact.) Something had to give. The push and pull, the back and forth, the give and take has just been weighing me down. One day I would get myself a great work out, the next I could not even get off of the couch. It was causing issues with my body because I have not been able to get myself into a steady routine. And routine is important.

Today on Facebook Erik posted something really great and he commented that it helped him get over that mental block. That is where I am living currently. Mental Block avenue. It is constantly under heavy construction, making it very difficult to leave. The physical pains of working out are tough, but honestly the mental block is far worse than any physical pain. Why can't I just do it?

I realized this weekend what a big part of my problem is. I do not believe it is working. I do not look at myself and see anything but the obese, extremely self-conscious loser I have seen for the last 20 plus years. I know logically that the weight is coming off because I have the numbers on the scale to tell me that. I have the the clothes that fit a bit more loosely. It is a fact that it is working. However, when it comes to the human mind, facts are pure nonsense. What we perceive to be true is truth in our eyes. We all have our versions of "truth." To me truth is that I am obese and not getting any less obese. When I see people and they tell me I am looking better, I do not believe them. Not because they are being insincere, because I believe that they are, but I see do not see it. The mirror, often thought of as an enemy to females, is no kinder to men, at least not this man. Mirrors are still the world's nastiest joke. They are supposed to only show exactly what is there, but our eyes perceive all of it wrong. It is not the mirror's fault, but we I blame it. The mirror shows that I am losing weight because I am losing weight, but when I look into the mirror, it does not show me that. It is backwards and stupid, but I know I am not the only one who does it.

So what can I do? I have to fight. I have to fight the on-going construction of Mental Block avenue. I have to send the state troopers of my mind (the metaphor is falling apart, I know that) to get those illegal campers away. Mostly though, I have to remind myself that like the scale, the mirror only shows what is actually there. It is my own mind that twists and turns the mirror like it is in a fun house. yes, I am still obese, no one is going to deny that, but I am less obese now than I was in March. I cannot defeat myself if I continue to only see what I have seen my whole life. This whole point of this journey is that this is an entire life change. Until I allow myself to see myself as someone who is on the right path, the rest of it will not matter. So, it is time to hit the reset button on this journey. I started it so strong. Over the last few weeks, I have gotten away from that strength. The great thing about this journey is that it is a daily thing. I have the power to control my daily life and now that it has gotten away from me, I need to get control again. I know I am strong enough to do it, I just have to focus my strength into something positive!

"It could be worse, I could be going through this Cancer and be ugly."- David

Doctors had no idea how to react when David, 16 years old, had colon Cancer. Imagine how impossible it was for David himself to know how to react. Imagine being 16 years old and hearing from a doctor that he has never heard of a 16 year old with colon Cancer and feeling stumped as to how to even attack it. No one knew how the 16 year old body would react to treatment, and had no idea how the 16 year old maturity level would handle the tough road of colon Cancer. Of course, David was not a typical 16 year old.

This Saturday will mark the 11 year anniversary of David Baxter eventually losing his battle with Cancer. I hope that you will all forgive me going off the usual blog topic for a day for this. David was one of my best friends, he was one of my family's best friends. His parents often acted like second parents for me. I went to school with David's sister and David sort of came of age with my brother and my brother's group of friends. I always felt lucky to be included in that group. My brother, Ben, Sam, David and I would often spend our Friday nights watching movies, playing board games, playing basketball and just enjoying each other's company.

When a loved one passes there is an unfillable void that lingers. 11 years later, it still lingers. David was the best kid I ever met. Before the Cancer hit he was funny, charming, kind, optimistic and always willing to lend a hand. After the Cancer hit he was funny, charming, kind, optimistic and always willing to lend a hand. There is not a day that goes by where I do not find my mind drifting to thoughts of him. I wonder what he would be doing now, or how our relationship would be now. I wish he was here so I could share my current happiness with him. I wonder if my brother and I would be as close if his death had not brought us together to bond in that way. I have lost all four grandparents and 2 uncles, but they lived a full life before they passed. When the person who passes away had been 17 years old for a week before he passed away, it leaves a mark.

For years I looked at October 6th as a day of mourning. Every year I would go to Jamba Juice, go see a movie, listen to Weezer and Pink Floyd, and kind of be sad. The last few years, I changed my perspective. Instead of being sad that my best friend was gone, I started to appreciate the time we did have together. Considered David's 1000 watt smile never wavered, even when he was in the worst pain, I felt I owed it to him to celebrate his life, not mourn his death. I had done enough mourning of the shortness of his spectacular life. Now I still get Jamba Juice, go see a movie, listen to Weezer and Pink Floyd, and to be honest, I get a little sad, but mostly I just think about how much fun we always had together. I think about the final summer of his life and how much time we spent together playing video games, watching movies and watching Bonds jack out home runs.

Last Spring while I was doing my student teaching, we were doing Romeo and Juliet and I was having my students write eulogies. They were to choose someone from their life and they were to eulogize that person. After going over what a eulogy was, my Freshmen were still kind of confused, so I realized I was going to have to model a eulogy for them. I hope that you will all indulge me and allow me to reprint the eulogy I wrote and delivered to my Freshmen about David.

David Baxter could diffuse any tense situation with just a flash of his smile. I know this from experience because there were times when I felt the entirety of our friendship was him cracking a smile and instantly calming me down. One of the best examples of this strikes me, even to this day. David and I went to a Kings game and were surrounded by these 4 loud, drunk awful guys. Throughout the whole game they were giving David and I crap because they overheard me telling David I could not stand Vlade Divac, and Divac was having a good game. Towards the end of the game, one of the guys accidentally spilled his beer on my head, dousing my hat in his beer. It was not done out of malice, but with the whole night building to this moment, I totally lost it. I got up and turned around to yell at them, and one of the guys was completely passed out. I looked over at David and he just had his giant grin plastered on his face and he started to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. Instantly, I started laughing, and the drunk guys even started laughing. When it was all said and done, the guy who ruined my hat gave me $25.00 to go buy a new hat and they apologized profusely. I have no idea how bad it could have gotten if David was not there to calm me down.

That is just who David was. He could calm situations. He was the ultimate good guy. When the Cancer hit him, he did not complain, he did not spend time being down. No, he smiled through it. He was cast in a musical before he was diagnosed and even though he was told not to perform in it, he went on for one scene every night with an IV tucked inside his costume. He was determined to not let Cancer determine his life. That was the ultimate lesson he taught me in life and in his death. We cannot change the things that are thrown at us, but we can decide how we deal with them. Cancer was just a fact of his life, but he would not let it be who he was.

It is never easy to swallow the death of a loved, but when that loved one is 17 years old, it is even tougher. I will never be able to understand why my best friend was taken from this world at such a young age. I understand how lucky I was to have him in my life, even if our time was short. I understand that my life is better for having known him. I understand it is up to me to decide how I am going to live my life. I owe David for teaching me that. I love David for teaching me that.

I used to dread October 6th every year, and it is still tough, and I usually need a few more hugs than normal, but now, I cherish this day as it is a yearly reminder of this awesome friend I had and the incredible lessons he taught me as he battled this awful disease.

I love you David, and I miss you, always.

Coping with the sadness

The end of September is swiftly approaching, which means October is upon us, and in adult world, the new month brings a new set of monthly bills. Nothing brings the starkness of not having a job into clear focus like bills. Every day it is the same thing, fill out applications and check my e-mail 30 times in the first few hours post application finishing only to end up in bed without a job. This is my fault. I screwed up and will be without a classroom until at least January, possibly longer if there is no one hiring teachers mid-year. The entire thing is so close and one stupid little thing has pushed it a few months back. In the big picture, it is nothing. I am not about the big picture though, I am a little picture kind of guy. I am of the step-by-step process school of thought.

At this moment, everything is a struggle. Every day is tough. This is not hyperbole. This is just a fact of my life. Over the last few years, I have very much struggled to find a job, like so many others out there. It takes such a mental, physical, and mostly emotional toll on me that some days, I just cannot even bear to deal with it. I am so close to being exactly where I want to be in so many ways, but so far away, at the same time. Never have I felt less like I mattered, than when I have not had a job. Yes, it is mostly the income, but in all honesty, I need to be doing something, contributing in some way. Even in the most rudimentary job, I could feel like I was doing something. I need to feel like I am earning my keep, my place in the world.

yes, I am tutoring now, which is awesome. If there was a way for me to tutor 40 hours a week, I would feel beyond blessed. Everything I wish I could do in a classroom to help each individual student, I can do with tutoring. I have 3 students and each one is so vastly different. For 4 hours a week, I am excited and challenged and it reaffirms this desire to teach. I know it is coming, I do. It just should be here already. I should be blogging about how my students are challenging me in unique ways, or I should be too busy to blog at all.

Last week I wrote about motivation. I was all gung-ho and ready for the next day. This week, I am reporting that I failed. I am failing. It is not in the past. It is a current and daily thing that I do, failing. I am not working out. I am not thinking positively. I am not eating greens. I am drinking too much sugar. I am barely present in my own existence right now. I have this giant dark cloud sprinkling drops of doubt, anger, frustration, and sadness. I realize as I type this out, that people out there have it way worse than I do. I have a great support system and I this wonderful girlfriend who loves me and reassures me every day. I honestly cringe to think where I would be without her. However, I still have to stand on my own two feet. And, right now I can barely do that some days.

I am starting to wonder if I just cannot do this. Maybe I cannot make the changes I am trying to make. Maybe I am not mentally strong enough to fight through this hurdle. I cannot break myself free from the chains of tasty but crappy food. I cannot break myself free from the laziness. I am not skilled enough to maneuver this dance of steps forward and steps backward. I look at Erik who is just crushing it in terms of his health goals, and think, damn, he just has this fire and I thought I did, but what if I do not.

Just a few hours ago as I was torturing myself by being in a bookstore, I thought I would set a goal to be in a place to run a 5K in a year, or maybe less. Now, I think, what a miserable idea that is. What if I fail? No, I will fail. I have a fail mentality permeating from my very core. I cannot set goals for the future, if I cannot even get myself to walk the 50 steps to the gym at the apartment on a daily basis right now.

I am trying to find a way to end this with a sense of positive energy, but I do not have any. All I want right now is to drive to Taco Bell and eat so much awful food. I am tired of telling everyone I am fine. I am not fine. I am sad. I am tired of not having a job. Why is it so much easier for me to write this for the entire world to see than it is to call a friend and ask for help? What is it inside me that completely flips out at the possibility of intimately sitting down with a loved one and being completely honest. I think I really need to look at this and see what the root is. I have Martina and we tell each other everything and it is a bigger relief than I can ever put into words, but I also realize putting too much on one person is not healthy. This post took me places I never would have expected to go. Maybe I will just delete the whole damn thing in the morning.

I feel like me blogging after 11pm is like what drunk dialing is to most other people.

Coming out swinging

Today I am feeling like I need to discuss motivation. This word is possibly the most key term when I think about this journey. What is the motivation to change my life? Well, the answer is pretty simple; I just want my life. I want to keep my life. I want to live my life, not let my life live me. If that sounds stupid, well, tough, it is my blog and my words. When I sat down and thought about what exactly I wanted from life as my teaching credential program was winding down, and I was getting ready for the next step, the next journey, I realized I wanted the ability to live and be happy. That is ultimately the reason why I decided to get my ass in gear and start fixing myself. The focus of this blog has pretty regularly switched between the physical and the emotional strides and stumbles, and I feel like motivation ties those two aspects together.

Over the last few weeks, though, I have felt my motivation slipping. I am making progress as I have detailed, but I could feel myself slowly losing that drive. I have been waiting for something to motivate me, to push me. All summer I was waiting for a job to push me further. It is tough to get out of bed when you are just going to be home all day. It appears counter productive because the easiest time to spend time bettering yourself is when you have nothing to do! However, with nothing to do, you lose sight of what kept you going. It is a vicious circle that goes round and round, which I guess is what makes it a circle. Without a job, I had to rely purely on myself to get me going and it has been rough. Without a job, I stay up later, so I get up later and am lethargic and sad. Instead of working out, I would sit and play video games for hours and hours. I decided I was either going to work out or job hunt and job hunting won. It makes no sense that I could not do both of them, but then it would take me away from my video games and that is just ludicrous.

This all came to a head last week during tech week. I started the week strong but by the end of it I had eaten a burger from Sonic and downed a Double Double Animal style and Animal Style Fries from In-N-Out. I had regressed and woke up two days in a row just feeling awful about myself, not only emotionally, buy physically. My stomach could not handle the In-N-Out the way it used to. It was all kinds of gross to deal with and I knew that something had to give. I very much was falling backwards and I could it affecting me in every aspect of my life. I was losing energy, not feeling as happy and clearly was not myself.

After a pretty sleepless night over the weekend I realized something that we all know, but often forget. Motivation is not just going to jump up, slap me across the face and tell me to follow it. I have to create my own motivation. I have to take responsibility for my own laziness, my own lack of happiness. I needed to find a way to get myself moving. (side note, I very nearly went on a Grinch like monologue. The one where he starts talking about all the things Christmas is not.) First order of business was to get in a routine. I needed to get myself to bed at a decent hour, wake up at a decent hour, eat a good breakfast and then take myself to the gym. It has to be in that order and I need to stick to it. I realized the more I work out, the more motivated I become to keep doing it. Motivation begets motivation. Getting started is always the toughest part of anything, but once I get myself down to the gym and get on the bike, I love it. I love the burn, I love moving and I love trying to outdo myself. Somehow I lost sight of that over the last few weeks.

between worrying about not having a job and wondering how I am going to feed myself on a nearly daily basis, I definitely lost sight of putting in the work on myself. It makes sense because honestly, stress over not being able to afford groceries will do that to a guy. However, a defeatist attitude is not going to help anything. I am tired of attacking life from a pessimistic attitude. What good does it do to wake up in the morning and deciding the day is not going to go my way? When I go work out in the morning, I just feel better about everything. No, it does not solve the bigger issues of my life, but neither does waking up feeling bad all of the time. It is amazing what an attitude adjustment can do. I am not one of those people who believes just positive thinking is going to get me a job, but when I feel better about myself, I more aggressively attack the job hunt. I start my day moving and so I spend the rest of the day swinging. An adjustment in my emotional or mental attitude helps my physical growth. Everything we do is connected to another part of us and the only way we ever achieve anything is by thinking that we can do it and believing that if we do the work, the results will go in our favor. And if we are not seeing the results, instead of getting down, we just have to regroup and try something else.

Will power is the ability to eat one salted peanut- Chinese proverb

Last week while having a disastrous lunch experience with Erik (the food was a disaster, not the company) we got on the subject of self control. I have long blamed my somewhat disgusting eating habits on a severe lack of self control. It was a way to distance myself from responsibility for my actions. It is not my fault, I just lack self control. It was as if self control was something you were either born with or not, or could be purchased somewhere I had just not yet acquired. As this journey progresses, I find myself often thinking about where I was in my life, and more importantly who I have been in my own life. This idea of self control comes back on a reoccurring basis. I have done my fair share of stupid things and it takes serious conviction as a person to take that personal responsibility. I go back and think about all the times I tried to distance myself from being responsible for my own actions by just blaming my lack of self control. If I ate a whole bag of chips in one sitting, it was not my fault I could not put them down. If I went back for thirds or fourths on a meal or dessert, it was not MY fault. I just can not control myself. I am completely absolved from my own actions, because well, I have no self control.

Like anything else worth having in this world, self control is learned. You have to work at it and the fact of the matter is, I was just too lazy, or too reckless to learn that skill. And it is a skill. I have always admired people who ask for a small slice of cake. You know, those people who have just enough of something sweet to take the edge off, but do not need to build cavity after cavity devouring that giant corner piece of cake with all the extra frosting. I look at those people and wonder how they do it. Well, the answer is simple, if the work is not: self control. The ability to know when to stop, not because your body is full, but because you know you will not like it later is such a powerful weapon to yield. This is, of course, for more than just food. This is about anything in life where you need to learn how to stop before things get out of hand. The ability to say "I am good with where I am and if I do anymore I know it will hurt me in some way" is something at which I am still working.

Eating out of boredom is one domain where self control is starting to pay off for me. I am not eating while watching television as much. I am not munching on awful things all day and when I do allow myself to get some ice cream, candy or chips, I am not eating an entire container of it in one sitting. Where it used to take me roughly 20 minutes to polish off a giant the big box of Mike and Ike candy, I now spread it over a few days. Yes, I would like to get to a point where I turn away from candy completely, but I am not there yet. The biggest place I have noticed a change in my self control is with soda and Rockstars. When I began this journey, Rockstars were a big part of my life. If you were to ask any of my former students, they would tell you. I have not had a single Rockstar since I decided to not have them. I have stuck to my guns and have managed to bypass all of the great deals at the grocery store. My self control for soda is getting better. I occasionally cheat, but I am mostly drinking Iced Tea now. I am down to maybe 3 sodas a month.

Every day I am learning something new about myself. I am learning that I am stronger than I ever thought in so many different ways. This is a valuable lesson to learn. I have felt powerless my entire life against food. I have felt powerless against self loathing. I have felt powerless against being obese. If I am ever going to conquer any of it, I have to take back the power. Yes, take it back. I had it at some point, but have lost it over the years and I have to stand up for myself and let myself know I have the power against food. I have the power against self loathing and I have the power against being obese. It starts with self control. It starts with me staring myself down and telling myself nothing has power over me unless I have given it the power over me. Food does not control me. My obesity does not control me. How do I know this? Because I am nearly 40lbs less obese than I was in March. I have to control my food, my obesity, my self love. It is process, but every day it grows just a little bit more and I know I am on my way to being the version of me everyone who loves me (including myself) knows I can be.

My hunger problem/ My wardrobe problem

After most meals, especially big meals, someone will inevitably state "I'm Full." It is a strange thing for me to hear, because I can barely understand it. I am never full, which means I am always hungry. If I am full, I am full for roughly 20 minutes and then I get hungry again. It is as if I am not full, just tired of eating whatever it is I was eating. It is awful when you are trying to lose weight to never feel full. for those of you who want to tell me I am not eating the right foods, save it. I have tried EVERYTHING. Nothing, and I mean nothing keeps me full for very long. I can always eat. I always want to eat. Every fiber of my body craves good at all times. I spend so much time hungry, it is exhausting. I am not sure if anyone else feels this or if I am alone on my island of constant hunger. When people get legitimately full, I get jealous. I am a bottomless pit of food desire. This is not hyperbolic in any way. I wish I was kidding, but almost always, I am hungry less than an hour after eating, even if I just finished eating a huge meal. I have always battled this by snacking all of the time. Chips, candy, ice cream and whatever else I had around to eat. It is part of how I got to be the size I have been. I was an active kid, but I was always hungry. it is a problem that has haunted me my entire life. I have no idea how to cope with it.

Now, I just live with the constant hunger. Some of it is financially motivated. I just cannot keep as much food around as I would like because I cannot afford it. Of course, I am also trying to snack on healthier snacks. However, in all honesty, I am just dealing with the idea of always being hungry. I ate a pretty nice sized meal less than an hour ago and I am already so hungry I just want to eat another full meal. This has become a bigger theme over the last few months as I have tried to back away from the constant eating. I am a total loss on what to do. And yes, I have tried to fill the bottomless pit with water, but that is just a lie. It just makes me feel gross, but does not take away the pangs of hunger shooting through every part of me.

In happier news, I am seeing physical changes. For starters, my watch is just a bit more loose. I started to notice that a few weeks ago. I thought nothing of it at first, but seeing as how I never leave the house without my watch, I know exactly how it has been fitting since Martina bought it for me for our anniversary in march. The biggest change though, leads to my next problem.

A little over two years ago when I lost a bunch of weight that took me from the XXXXL t-shirts to the XXXL t-shirts, I threw out a bunch of clothes. it was easier then because I had money to purchase replacements. Now, none of my t-shirts are starting to get too big, so I am fine there, however, Friday night I put on one of my nice dress shirts, and noticed a big change. I probably last wore my nice purple dress shirt during my final weeks of student teaching, which was early June. It was not a snug fitting shirt, nor was it a loose fitting shirt. In fact, of all the dress shirts I have ever owned, it, along with the 3 others of the exact same kind in different colors, are the best fitting dress shirts I have ever owned. Well, no more. When I put it on Friday night, I was swimming in it. It was super loose fitting and I almost did not wear it out because it looked weird on me.

If ever there was a good problem to have, this is it. I am at a crossroads though, because A) I do not have the money to buy new clothes at this juncture and B) the main hope is to continue losing weight, so if I buy new clothes that fit now, will I just have to buy new ones again IF the weight continues to slowly come off? It may seem arbitrary, or a foolish conundrum, but I have to look at this in a very real way. I think I just have to keep wearing the shirts, even if they are a bit loose at least until it just looks absurdly silly to wear them. I think I have to reassess at a later date, perhaps when I hit my next plateau of weight loss. I can buy new clothes and then have those for a while until I start to really see it come off again.

Make no mistake, I am definitely happy to have this problem. It is always nice to see the change in myself physically. Many people have commented that they see it, but I almost never believe them. Positive encouragement feels great, but in my overactive brain I think that people know it feels great so they offer it even if it is not true. It may not make any sense, but there it is. To see the change really lets me know everything I am working towards is working. Results are happening. Changing one's life is entirely possible. I feel it every day and I see it and hear it every time someone tells me how much happier I seem.

The boy, his bike, the wind and exploration

As a youth with a paper route, I traveled everywhere via bike. I loved riding a bike. I hated riding my bike at 6 in the morning on a Sunday delivering newspapers, but I loved my bike. I was great on a bike too. I was not a trick doer or anything, but I could get moving. I remember when my mom let me first take my bike further than my elementary school. I thought I was a the coolest thing ever. Those rides to AM/PM felt like absolute freedom. This was before girls, before I was self conscious, before high school, even before the awful trials of middle school. It was just a boy, his bike, probably the wind (at least in my poetic memory of it), and all the awesome dirt dunes of Woodland before houses went up everywhere. The memory of it is thick with boyhood nostalgia.

As I got older, I started to hate traveling by bike. I would get so sweaty and a sweaty Kyle is not a cute look. So, eventually like most things of boyhood, the bike collected dust, took up space and eventually vanished from my life and honestly, the joyous memories faded as well. I became wrapped up in girls, school, theater, work and all of the drama that a teenage life offers. There was just no more time for the boy, his bike and that poetic wind. There was no more of Woodland left for me to explore in a Goonies like fashion. Now, I have this serious loathing of people on bikes. The pretentiousness of Davis bicyclers leaves me fuming on a regular basis. They do not obey traffic laws, or even laws of common sense. I have witnessed Davis bicyclers nearly run down animals, small children and flip people off even though they were in the wrong. It has soured the idea of bicycling for me.

Well, as my knee issues persist to varying degrees many people have suggested bike riding as a low impact workout and I am nothing if not willing to be open minded. Plus, Martina appears to very much have a fondness for riding bikes. She has an extra one and right behind our apartment is a bike trail. There is just no excuse for not giving it a shot. Today I did. I got on a bike for the first time in at least a decade, probably longer and honestly, I enjoyed the hell out of it. I need a bike of my own, or at least a wrench so we can raise the seat, but I had a hell of a time. We biked roughly 5 miles and we were gone around an hour and I cannot wait to do it again. It was so relaxing riding with the river on our left and just above the street, so we were not in traffic. There it was again, a boy, his bike, the wind and a new world to explore. Except this time, I am not exploring it alone. I have this awesome companion pushing me, encouraging me and keeping me smiling the whole way.

About 10 minutes into our biking it all came back. This giant windfall of nostalgia hit me and there I was 12yrs old again, just enjoying the world. The cliche when you have not done something in a while is "it is like riding a bicycle." Riding a bike is one skill that just never goes away. Sure, I was a little wobbly at first and it took me a few minutes to remember how the whole mechanics of my body were supposed to move. But when I did, boy did it feel great. I, of course, did not pace myself and got pretty wiped towards the end, but not so much so that I hated it. The entire time I just kept thinking "Why did I ever stop this?" At what point did the idea of a boy, his bike, the wind and the exploration stop being awesome? Probably never, I just got distracted. I need to remind myself that disconnecting from the electronic world is great. For a shade over an hour, I did not look at my cell phone, or bother with anything. It was just about being out in the world and having fun. As long as exercise is not work, I think I can stay with it.

Anything that makes me feel the freedom I felt when my mom let me ride my bike to Main Street and beyond, is something I need to revisit. Things are a struggle again in my professional life. I am tired of being broke. I am tired of feeling like I am a failure in various aspects and I am tired of stressing out over things that I cannot control. So what can I do? I can peddle. I can get on that bike and take off. You know, just a boy, his bike, the poetic wind, and the world he has yet to conquer. Who knows, maybe there is a buried treasure and a pirate ship out there waiting for a 32 year old boy to find it.


Oh that picture is not the bike I am riding.

The B**** of moving

Having been caught up in all of the things that come with moving, I have neglected the blog over the last week. One sometimes forgets exactly how much is involved with the moving process. It becomes more so when you are combining two lives into one place. The combining of our stuff actually worked out pretty well. Martina supplied all of the furniture, the kitchen ware, and the giant television, and I supplied all of the movies and books. With two key friends helping us move, we managed to get everything over to our new place between last Thursday and this Monday. As of yesterday we are completely unpacked and totally at home in our new apartment.

Among the complications of moving is food. When you are in the middle of moving and you have not unpacked kitchen ware, or you have not had time to go shop for food, yet alone prepare it, what do you do? The old moving stand by is pizza. I can recall countless times where pizza and moving went together like hipsters and complaining. In the last 2 plus years I have lived in 2 places in Woodland, 2 places in Davis and now I am in my second place in Sacramento. That is more moves than any one person should make in that short amount of time, but I think it qualifies me to say that pizza is the absolute most common moving food. If you have people to help you move, you supply them with pizza and beer. When you are worn out from packing boxes or moving boxes or unpacking boxes, you get pizza delivered. This is very difficult when you are desperately trying to minimize your pizza intake. I am not going to lie, I struggled a bit during the packing process. Pizza is just such an easy food and it is cheap to feed a few mouths with it. Generally speaking everyone loves pizza and it can appease carnivores and vegetarians. It is just such a jolly food.

Now that we are settled though, we are trying to make a strong commitment to eating at home more and cooking more. There will always be fish and chicken in our freezer. During the moving process when we went out to eat, I got salads. We ate Subway instead of Taco Bell for quick food. They are small changes, but they are dramatic changes for me. Typically moving stresses me out so hardcore, and eating has always momentarily alleviated that. I have loved to just binge on really awful food during the most stressful of times and I am at a place in my life where I am dealing with my stress in much healthier ways. It helps with the move and it is helping with me being so unbelievably broke. In the short term I spend more money on food, but in the long term, I save money. I spend more on groceries, but less per meal. It took me a while to understand that concept, but now that I get it, it is like, well duh.

The weight loss has returned as well. Many of the t-shirts that I have had for 4 or 5 years are just giant on me now, the same with many of my undershirts and even my underwear. I can look at myself in the mirror and notice the change. For someone who has avoided looking in mirrors at all costs since I was at least 14 years old, it is quite nice to look at myself and not hate what is staring back at me. No, I am nowhere near where I want to be, but seeing progress, even small progress, fills me with such calm and a quiet drive to keep doing the work. This attitude adjustment is as much of a reason for the weight loss as the diet and exercise. It is insane what a tweak in attitude can do for a person. Over the last few months many people have commented on just how much happier I seem than I have in the past. I have no idea how people saw me in the past, but I know that just about everyone can see the positive changes and that helps. I am still doing everything I can to take steps to being a happier, stronger more fulfilled Kyle.

This week begins our first week really living in our new home. I am hoping to discover some of things surrounding us. Martina has two bikes and we are near a bike path, so maybe, just maybe, I will get on a bike for the first time in a decade. We live near gorgeous houses and I am hoping to go on walks to see some of the details you cannot see from a car. We do not have tennis rackets yet, but that will happen soon. Most importantly, I feel like I want to be surrounded by people more. I want to host game nights, and have people over for dinner and movies. I want to share this great thing that is happening to me. I want to be surrounded by other people who are positive influences in my life. I am tired of living a quiet existence. I am tried of not feeling like people would want to be around me. I am awesome and it is time to start showing the world!

The problem with costumes

From my first show in high school, I knew there would be a big issue with performing in theater: costumes. Costuming a guy my size has never been an easy task, I am sure. I have worn enough of my own clothes in shows to know that costumers do not enjoy searching out ways to costume a guy my size. Along with walking down the aisles of an airplane staring at the faces hoping I was not sitting next to them, seeing a costumer for the first time has always caused me anxiety. I have had some great costumers, but I have also had some pretty mean spirited costumers in my day that have caused me to really dread the moment of getting measured and fitted. There is a special kind of self hatred one gets when a costumer has to pull out the big tape measure in order to get your measurements.

For the longest time, I kept a series of clothes and shoes that I thought I might need for shows. This included really tight wrangler jeans, a leather jacket (which I still own), cowboy boots, chucks, various button up shirts and a few blazers. This arsenal of clothes I would never wear in my daily life was meant to ease the stress level of the frazzled costumer. Over the years however, costuming in a show has been a pretty good barometer of where I stood in terms of my size. The last 4 years have been a constant battle with weight loss. When I was living in the apartment behind Erik's house, I had finished the worst summer of my personal life and had lost enough weight to where I could finally start buying shirts that were XXXL and not XXXXL. It was a monumental moment in my life and it was around the time I started doing The Drowsy Chaperone the first time. The costumer borrowed a suit that I had worn in a show a mere 5 months earlier and when I wore it the first time, it was a tad bit snug and for Drowsy, it was too big. This was at a time when over a 14 month span I lost roughly 50 pounds. It was such a great measure of where I had gone in only 5 months. It showed me what was possible.

However, I got stalled and eventually the weight started coming back on. When I did Titanic earlier this year, I felt like I was at the heaviest I had been in quite a few years. It was part of why I decided I was ready for this journey. I was tired all of the time and having a tough time with keeping up with just my one number. It was during the fitting for that show where the extra long tape measure got busted out. It was this giant personal moment of embarrassment for me. I worked so hard just a few short years ago and it had all been lost. Titanic was also right at the height of some of the most stressful months of my life professionally and I was finishing the big project for my teaching credential and I dealt with stress through food. I should have taken that extra long tape measure as a sign that I needed a change, but I was not ready yet.

As my regular readers know, this journey really helped me through Joseph. I felt more agile, more energetic, and more comfortable in my own skin and it led to me giving one of my favorite performances. People tend to know me as a mix of faux arrogance and genuine self doubt, but Joseph is a performance about which I was very proud. Much of that has to do with this renewed sense of energy. I knew with a Gino choreographed and Bobby directed show coming up directly after Joseph, I was going to have to not only sustain that renewed sense of energy, but raise it. Last night at the beginning of rehearsal, I had a chance to revisit that same suit from Drowsy two years ago. It was even bigger on me this time than last time. However, that was not even the end of it. Every article of clothing the costumer had me try on FIT!! This never happens. She found clothes at a thrift store that fit me. Yes, they are big clothes, but they are legitimate XXXL button up shirts and they all fit. Normally I have to go through a bunch of shirts before we find anything that fits me. It also means I am at a size that is carried at thrift stores for the first time in I do not know how long. This was a giant lift on a really horrible day.

The journey is paying off. Last night's intense dance rehearsal left me exhausted and sore, but I kept up in a way that is foreign to me. My muscle memory is stronger than it has been in years, my stamina kept me pumped up and even though I was tired, I did not mark a single run through of the choreography. I am so close to being on time with a spin that plagued me last time I did the show. On top of that, I am feeling like I can keep up with this energetic cast and all of the physical bits Bobby has us doing. I am not as out of breath and I am keep pushing myself to try new and different things and not just rely on my size to try and get laughs or reactions. This is exactly what I needed to remind myself why I am putting myself through this.

This weekend is the big move. My life starts a new chapter and I know I need to rededicate myself to pushing this journey through. Tennis, bike rides, walks, vegetables, chicken, fish and continued positive thoughts are going to help make this life transition smooth and fun. Once I am all settled in the new place I plan on sitting down and really focusing my goals, giving myself specific places I want to be by specific times. I hope you will all continue with me. I love to hear stories from people who are going through similar things or have gone through similar things. You all inspire me to keep trying to be the best version of myself I can possibly be.