Jim Rayphand
TODAY’S article is likely not for everyone and could be offensive to some, so read at your own risk. I don’t know how many of you have ever been fat before? And whether you have or have not, you still may not want to hear what I have to say about it here.
The simple truth is that being fat is not great; in fact, becoming fat is arguably one of the worst things I’ve ever done to myself. Let me say again for emphasis…what I have done to myself. To be clear, I’m not talking about aesthetics — I’ve never much cared how I look, but I am talking about how I feel or rather how it hurts (physically, mentally and emotionally). Mind you too that I’m not talking about youthful baby-fat, the occasional buffet inch, or the transient layer of winter warmth, but rather about chronic obesity, defined as “a long-lasting disease that results when you have excess body fat that puts your health at risk” — emphasis on “long-lasting” and “disease.” It has taken me fifty-two, long-lasting years of roller coaster rides up and down the weight scale to finally conclude that obesity is in fact a disease (self-inflicted in my case), but a disease nonetheless of the body, mind and soul.
Approximately three weeks ago, I decided to hone in and confront the elephant in the room, if you will, in search of a better version of myself. I concocted some lofty, semi-arbitrary goals (or rather targets) involving weight loss numbers and activity levels then set out to make the “impossible possible.” Imagine my surprise upon stepping on a scale for the first time in well over a year and seeing that I weighed three-hundred-and-two (302) pounds.
The scariest part of it all is that I was genuinely shocked — I could never have imagined breaching the three-hundred-pound threshold. Fatness is a subtle killer that can engulf a person (in plain sight) and be comforting like a warm, fuzzy blanket with him being none the wiser. Even the clearest symptoms of trouble go completely unnoticed, ignored or disassociated, like the frog in a slow boil who thinks he’s taking a nice, warm bath until (in most cases) it’s too late. I knew I was fat, but I didn’t realize to what extent and yes, that sounds ridiculous I know, but that is the truth. Just in case I didn’t fully comprehend the gravity of the matter, a true friend of mine bluntly pointed out that, “even Charles Barkley (who for years throughout his NBA career was lambasted and became the brunt of everyone’s jokes for being grossly overweight) never reached three hundred pounds.” Charles Barkley, for those who may not know, is six-foot-six (6’6”) and I’m five-nine (5’9”) at best…on a swollen feet day. Holy cow!? Pun intended though I am not trying to be funny — just laughing in a sad, pitiful sort of way at myself. For most fat people, chronic obesity really is no laughing matter and in many cases they, as with me, won’t even recognize the clear and present danger.
Above all else, it is a major health issue associated with numerous diseases, specifically an increased risk of certain types of cancer, coronary artery disease, type 2 diabetes, stroke and cardiovascular disease, not to mention increases in mortality and economic costs.
There is also no doubt, in my mind, that mental health issues, if not a diagnosable mental illness, play a direct role in the phenomenon of obesity. The sad truth is that many people through no fault of their own fall unto the path of a half-ton life and are either unable or unwilling to do anything about it. The sadder truth is that most people through nobody’s fault but their own willfully neglect the tell-tale signs of self-destruction and can, but choose not to do anything about it. Those of us in the latter are the lucky ones and I, for one, am choosing (very publicly I might add) to do something about it. More specifically and to state the obvious, I need to consume less and burn more calories through a more controlled diet and increased physical activity in my daily life.
It is that easy and also that hard. Herein lies the challenge and likely reason why people often give up. The older and bigger you get, the harder it becomes to change any habits you may have developed along the way. Among other things, the weight doesn’t come off as easily as it once did and it is very easy to become discouraged (my actual reality at present). We all know or should know the devastating power of self-doubt and should expect to meet it head on and push through it at the gates, if we are to succeed. “I think I can! I think I can!” Yet the mere attempts at reducing calorie consumption can be a mind-boggling head-trip that takes a concerted, obsessive level of effort to manage. And, you may as well be pulling teeth to get a daily workout routine with a sufficient level of rigor started.
The point is for anyone quietly suffering with obesity, it doesn’t help to pretend it isn’t an issue — the truth is you really can’t hide it — and it doesn’t help not talk about it; in fact, because so much of it is rooted in psychological issues, I think talking about it (even with yourself) may be a key factor in beating it. Of course, I’m not one to espouse advice on the matter and putting oneself on blast in a public newspaper like this might be overkill… certainly not for the faint of heart. Still the hope is that this reaches someone who needs to hear it. We are not alone; in fact, a 2019 U.S. News article reported obesity as “a public health issue that impacts more than 100 million adults and children in the U.S.”
As for those lofty goals I set out for myself a few weeks ago, though it is completely unnoticeable to look at me, I have managed to shave off fifteen (15) pounds of body weight thus far and my fastest mile to date was 13 minutes and 47 seconds. That run came with an injury to my knee, but such is life as a “fatso guy” — soon to be formerly known as such. Let’s do this!
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