This post is not about weight loss. OK. That’s a lie. This post is totally about weight loss. I mean, what else is there really? As a kid, when you are the chubby kid anyway, your weight (its loss and gain) becomes the defining facet of your identity. All other parts are either colored by your weight or completely overruled by it. Nothing escapes the influence.
If you are a good writer, then it is only because you are trying to escape being overweight.
A good runner? Well you are obviously built for endurance, not speed.
Funny? Well we know that the chubby kids have to have a sense of humor.
You know the worst part of all of that? That’s the stuff you are telling yourself. Because whatever our friends, families and enemies are telling us, we are by far our own worst devils.
I learned a couple of hard lessons this weekend. The shallowest way to put it is that I am too old to do things like stay out until 3am. Why? Because years of training means I’m still going to wake up at 5:30. And no number of naps makes up for 2 hours of sleep. But the real lesson is that there are longer term consequences to my goals when I choose to do certain things. Lack of energy = stuff doesn’t get done. Sure, it was difficult yesterday to shake off what can only be described as a hangover of many levels. Yet the part that I’ve been obsessing over all day is the idea that I sabotaged myself. After a great Saturday morning, and a great race, I failed to follow through.
I let myself down. I gave into my worst tendencies of indulgence. I undid 2 weeks of effort.
And my devil has not let me forget it.