Don’t you just hate when people makes you think? I mean, you have everything planned out, pieces are in motion, your strategies are being executed, and then someone makes you think: What you are doing, is it worth it?
This happen to me today when I read the latest post of Roni at Roni’sWeight. Basically she wrote about the famous pot of gold that is in the end of the rainbow. The idea that getting fit will solve all your problems. That along with a six pack abs, you also receive superpowers. The stupid idelization of reaching your weight loss goal will also make you millionaire. The part that really got to me was this: “No matter your weight or your size your life will not change dramatically if succeed at weight loss. You will still be married (or not) to the same person. You’ll still be living in the same neighborhood working the same job and driving there in the same car.”
If you don’t know already, I’ll tell right know I was chubby all my adult life until about like 5 years ago. I got serious then and reached about 11% body fat (my lowest) in a somewhat muscular frame. I had that body for about a year and a half. Then re-gained the fat until I reached 30% bodyfat. Flashforward to now, losing it again.
So you can say I’m lucky; I have tasted the sweet syrup of fitness, I walked in this realm in a nice body and yes, I did have some fun while living in it.
Then I got fat again. For like 2 years. Now, I’m back to the skinniest side of life. But I’m such a different man now inside my brain that it scares me. So different that I think I’m losing gas to fuel what I (think) want to accomplish.
Somehow I managed to lose a lot of fat. Right now I’m consider “slim”. Too slim actually, because I was aiming to a jock sort of body, sort of like this:
I was a jock back then. And in reality, besides the looks, nothing really changed in me. Yes, I had more fun, but I do get a lot of fun as I am right now. The skinny, not muscular me gets a lot of fun. And better yet, I’m loved. I feel plentiful. I dont feel any part missing in my life. I’m not chubby anymore, and I’m happy.
So, why should I take another painful journey into weight lifting if I’m happy with who I am? Since I know how it’s like being a jock from before, and dont really feel the need to get the muscles back to make my life good (because it already is), whats the point? I know now that muscles doesn’t make your life better, I mean you don’t get superpowers. I could stay like this, skinny, healthy, focus only on combat and running and nothing else and be happy. Comfort zone. Cauzy. Good.
Somehow having a muscular build seemed to have more importance at 23 than at 29. WTF?
Yet, there is this voice inside my head that yells to me that I got to go to the weight room again. I feel like there a reason to it. My body is eager for it. But I just can’t put my finger on it. I have like, a feeling, but can’t put it on words. If i just…. – God darn it- if I could just put my finger on it and put it on words, everything will become clear and my fuel would get pumping inside my gas tank. But I can feel it, but not verbalize it. What are you, God dammit feeling of needing of weights? Why don’t you come outside and let me see you?