Pain and mental health

Dad Bod

                I intended on writing about “dad bod” again in this post and I still will in a way.  As I noted on Tuesday, the post I uploaded was written almost 18 months ago.  I hadn’t posted it sooner because I was embarrassed.  In my profession, health is incredibly important.  We have extensive instruction in nutrition and physical rehab and anatomy, physiology, aging, biochemistry; the list can go on and on.  I am fully aware of the importance of health and being “a little overweight” was embarrassing. 

                So I waited.  I waited to post it until I could write a follow-up about how far I’ve come.  Plans and real life sometimes don’t agree.  Yesterday morning, I ran into a newer acquaintance.  He asked me what my plans were for the day.  I relayed that I was going to the gym, then I would be heading to work. 

                “The gym?  You don’t work out!” he replied, gesturing to my abdomen. 

                I laughed and agreed, mentioning how fat guys gotta start somewhere.  The comment took the wind out of my sails.  I have been working toward getting healthier since last October and felt like I was making positive strides, which I may detail in a later post.  I recently started going to an actual gym to exercise and was really enjoying it.  Yesterday’s session sucked though.  I kind of went through the motions, with half-hearted intensity.  Throughout the day, I felt disgusting.  I felt like I was fat and everyone was looking at my stomach. 

                Some of you may know this, but if you don’t, I have struggled with body image issues my entire life.  I have struggled with eating disorders.  When I was younger, I had bouts of anorexia.  More recently, binge eating has been a struggle.  This time, instead of worrying about losing weight to look good, I was determined to get healthy and trust that physical manifestations would mirror the effort.  One of my goals for this year was to run (jog) a 5k and though I may not achieve that goal this year, I’ve been proud of my progress.

                Which brings me to the point of this post.  I am overweight.  I have a dad bod (I have achieved it, since I overshot it previously).  I don’t have a six pack and my arms aren’t enormous.  When I started Tune Chiropractic in September, I was right around 230 pounds.  Yesterday, at the gym, I weighed in at 190.  My goal wasn’t to lose 40 pounds, in fact, I figured I’d be around 200 pounds and feeling fit and fierce.  The goal was to get healthy, realizing that weight would have to come off during the journey.  Having passed the 200lb mark and not being where I want, I no longer have any idea what my healthy weight will be. 

                I don’t want sympathy and I’m not fishing for compliments.  I am writing this because this morning, June 15, 2018, I woke up knowing that I had a bad day yesterday and it was probably needed to keep my ego in check.  I re-discovered the purpose of why I’m doing this.  Why I am eating healthier, eliminating bad foods and exercising more.  This morning I recognize that I’m not happy with partial achievement of my goal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel good about my current progress.  I can see and feel the changes that have happened since I started making a concerted effort to get healthier and am grateful for where I’m at.  In the same breath, I am also grateful that I still have my goal of jogging (maybe speed walking) a 5k to shoot for.

                I know he didn’t mean anything hurtful when he made the comment of my physique, and I’m just a little sensitive.  I’m glad it happened the way it did.  I’m glad I had hurt feelings all day and it essentially ruined my day.  If that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have been able to put things in perspective.  I wouldn’t have been able to re-focus my efforts and be mindful of my progress.   He did me a favor and will never know it.