I’m a loser
A prologue to motivation
About life…and growth
Acknowledge
As I got heavier I started to experience multiple conditions that I simply brushed off as signs of growing older or just things I naturally picked up. When I do see them as indications of being overweight, I told myself that I was probably still in the growth process. It’s only natural to experience those things as you’re getting heavier. But who was I kidding? I knew about BMI and it sure was not ‘Being Miserably Ignorant’
Joints
I was finding it more tiresome to walk all day in the mall or stand for a long duration. I experienced fatigue and pain in my knees and ankles. The reason was very clear to me though; I was heavy and my joints simply couldn’t carry me very far any longer. I knew I had to lose weight but believed something must be on it’s way to
Sleep
I began to snore after months of employment. Initially they were soft noises and they sounded more like heavy breathing. So I was told. I concluded that it must be the stress and weariness from work but I reconsidered this excuse since that was hardly true. I then learned from others that my snoring had become louder and thought age has finally caught up with me. On sleepovers with some friends, one of the light sleepers woke me up several times to stop my snoring. I got an earful the next morning of course. Alas, I was a certified snorer, is there such word? Through time I discovered that I could in fact feel and hear myself snore. I would be awaken by a persistent noise and rattles in my throat. It was an exciting discovery which was proven each time I caught myself at the crime scene. Excited but not the least proud.
“Huh, what do you know, I can hear and feel myself snoring. Eureka…” I often said to myself, went back to sleep only to snore again - a vicious cycle if you ask me. I have read somewhere that being overweight could be the cause. So I told myself to do my best in losing weight and jump on the first solid opportunity that comes my way; if only I knew which way I was going. In the meantime, I continued snoring.
They say…
I have voiced my intentions to go on a diet for a million reasons and kind friends shared information, tips and the go-to people. A friend was swift and eager to dish out his philosophy on health and weight.
“It’s no joke man. When you’re overweight, you can bet that most of the illnesses out there is knocking on your door. Trust me, I’ve seen sufficient proofs of this. Heart diseases and failures, stroke, high blood pressure, and many more. You gotta get fit, like right now!” he urged.
I looked at him and kept this to myself, “easy for you to say, you’re all skin and bones with minimal flesh!”
As we stood there talking, images of the big bad wolf were sneaking through my mind. And he was beating on my door saying “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I’ll strike your heart down! Now open the door you great juicy pig!”
I shook the images off my head and thought “Must lose weight. Wolf is near. Must burn fat. Oink…” But unlike the smart pig, I locked the door and just waited.
Garments
It has also been difficult for me to find a pair of pants that doesn’t look ugly on me since my second year in university. Whenever there were bargain clothes for sale, I usually end up frustrated and jaded because there was no such size and the ones that did fit looked horrible. I could no longer wear jeans and the only comfort up my stubby legs were slacks and khakis.
And get this, I thought I caught the culture of wearing boxers and really felt it was a nice change that I actually forgot that the only reason I switched to boxers was because briefs were uncomfortably constricting. My behind was getting too big for comfort and boxers provided some breathing space up front. Talk about subliminal influences!
Also, because I’m vertically challenged, all the shirts I wore were too long and hung halfway through my thigh. I looked like I own a wardrobe of mostly pajamas.
Never mind looking good, I couldn’t even get decent looking clothes.
Self confidence
There’s the worry of tasteless style, and there’s the worry of tasteless persona. As if I didn’t have enough bad hair days to worry about, I was constantly aware of my physical state. A huge landmark is hard to miss.
Mirrors are evil I tell you. They would mercilessly tell you that you’ve gained so much. Sometimes I would walk quickly past a huge mirror and hope no one saw what I saw. There was not much space to save face either. Some people have faces which are totally disconnected from their system. They don’t look the weight. But scan down and you are tempted to ask when the baby is due. Me? I’m completely the opposite. Food seems to be processed right in my mouth and the extra energy is stored on my face, (after including various body parts). Imagine how monkeys eat. Like there’s an amplifier between my system and the structure of my face.
This may sound pathetic but I didn’t like the camera pointed at me. Like mirrors, they are equally evil. They seem to be programmed to exaggerate whatever unpleasant features we have. It’s still true today though.
What’s up doc?
I went to a health screening in June 2005 and it was a perfect way for me to gauge my condition.
“It should be a piece of cake. I may be fat but I could be as healthy. Just don’t repeat what I did three years ago” I thought.
What did I do the last screening?
Let’s see…
Well, I told the good doctor how I woke up at about 4 in the morning with a bloody ear and nose two years back in university, prior to my employment. The cause still puzzles me to this day and there were definite side effects. Upon hearing about the assumed side effects, he advised me to be cautious and get further examination. He was sympathetic that it was my first offshore job and that I must be very excited to join the company. Therefore he gave me a clean bill of health but advised me to reconsider or at least be mindful nonetheless. I showed him immense gratitude and quickly left before he changed his mind.
This time around, I was more prepared and expected a smooth session.
The first thing recorded was my weight and height. As I stepped onto the scale the middle aged nurse was surprised to see my actual weight.
“Well, well” she chuckled.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I asked quickly.
“Oh it’s nothing. I just thought you’d be lighter. You don’t look this heavy.” She explained.
So much for a good start.
Bummer! I was aware of my weight issue but I didn’t expect it to pop up even before the elaborate tests were done. That does it. When I get back from the holidays, I’ll be dieting. No if, ands or butts after the break.
Everything went smoothly, including the hairy ‘pants down’ instruction by the doctor. It could have easily turned out a complete disaster if I had a female examiner. The thought makes the hair behind my neck stand, among other things. Or worse, I could have met the anal probe or given the prostate examination.
Ok, I lied. It was a smooth ordeal. My first full frontal and I was mildly disturbed by the thought. But I decided to face it like a man, turned both chubby cheeks to the good doctor and gracefully bent over to pull my boxer back up, as ordered. He kept a good distance all the while. I walked out of the room unscathed.
“Ok, that’s it. We’re done. Please come back in two weeks for your result” the nurse said.
“Can I get it after three weeks? I’m off for a long vacation and will pick it up as soon as I come back” I asked
“Sure. Give us a call.”
Fiesta
I spent one week in Kapit Celebrating Gawai (not without incidents) and another week in Kuching celebrating the remaining fiesta. Food was everywhere and drinks flooded the village. Copious amount of calorie intake made me look like a blowfish. I was more determined to kick start my diet once I get back. I knew it would get harder with each bite but haggling was swift and temptation won every time.
Relatives often exclaimed how big I have grown and my dad would add ‘yup, a full grown pig’. I know that sounds horrible. Believe me, it felt so, but we’re used to his sarcasm for whatever reason and intention. I felt like saying “yeah, and that makes you the father of one” but remained silent.
I took it as an acknowledgement of my current state and as his hope that I can make something out of it. Incidentally, he did tell me to exercise because I didn’t exactly look proportional. Ah, family and the subtlety. And once, while I was sitting at the back seat of the van, I noticed his glance on the rear view mirror, smiled and said “like a bull”. My face went numb and I was silenced. Once again, I knew it was casual and carried no offense whatsoever. Oh but I took it with me alright. Boy did I have something to prove.
The screening result
I came back from my vacation all fired up and determined to burn the flab. I picked up the test result and the cover letter says it all.
Many solid reasons couldn’t make me start the program. After all this while, all it took was for a professional to slap it to me in black and white. Heck, I could have told myself that but noo, I needed to get it from the doctor himself. It took me about two months to tell my friends that I was medically obese because it was highly embarrassing and progress on my diet was slow. And only now I’m telling the world.
Funny huh, how different things wake you up. I know of some friends who actually got into a messy medical complication before they decided to lose weight. I also have many lady friends who used this strategy to fit snugly into their wedding dress. The general rule is ‘buy first, fit later’. Oh but it is true for the grooms as well. Guys, it is a sweet gesture.
Motivation is always around. Some people look for it, some people wait for it and some never see it coming. I always tell friends that no one should tell you to lose weight nor do they have the right to do so for no reason, especially when you are obviously happy with the way you are. The only person capable of making it work is yourself . No matter how strong the support can be made available, if the motivation doesn’t quite do it for you, you'd be better off enjoying life.
So if you’re fat and loving it, good. If you’re lean and also loving it, good.
Now pass the gravy please.
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