Over the past few years, I’ve made it my mantra to honor the moment, which is to say – not harp on the past or worry about the future. What is done is done, and what will be will be. It’s one of the reasons I’ve come to appreciate working out, because when I am pushing my physical limits, I am painfully present and in the moment… It’s just me, doing my best to defy gravity.
This said, yesterday I came across an old picture that gave me pause. It was one of those pics that transports you back in time, when you can remember your thoughts (and, in my case, feel the insecurities) at the very moment the picture was taken. And while I recalled the hurt that came from feeling out of place and overweight, I was also reminded of another moment that would follow months after the picture was taken, an unexpected twist that would ultimately liberate the guy in the photo.
My journey over the past few years began with an act of kindnesses. My boss took me on a shopping spree for some new work clothes. The gracious gesture wasn’t exclusive to me. Although I was the most senior in age and title, other managers and employees had been afforded the same opportunity. The business was growing and maturing, and the upgrade in apparel was part of a greater initiative to retrofit our image to our success, which proved to be somewhat problematic for me. At that stage in my life, I was at my heaviest. In the few years I’d worked for my employer, I had physically grown with the business and packed on an additional 20+ pounds to my already chubby physique. So where I was concerned, there was also a recognition and acknowledgement between me and my boss that the new clothes were gifted, in part, to help reinvigorate my confidence and self-esteem.
While I felt like a million bucks afterwards, in the weeks that followed, the new clothes felt increasingly snug, which was naturally upsetting (and, at times, painfully uncomfortable). In an ironic twist, the considerate gesture backfired; my self-esteem had never been worse. The thought of retreating to my old baggy outfits or purchasing larger sizes crossed my mind, but doing so felt dishonest and disrespectful to my employer, who had invested in me. So, on Tuesday November 1, 2016, I entered Balanced Fitness by my office, oblivious to the fact that my life was about to change.
I didn’t go to the gym that day with big ambitions. I’d been down that road before. Over the span of 20+ years, I had joined multiple gyms with the intentions of becoming buff, but my workout “regimens” would inevitability fizzle. At 45, it was time to stop kidding myself. I’d proven time and time again that I didn’t have the drive or commitment. I was at peace; I’d never be muscular or ripped, never be the strapping man I envisioned becoming as a boy. I entered the gym that Tuesday with a singular goal – just lose enough weight to fit comfortably into my new new threads, so I wouldn’t disappoint my boss.
What kept me at the gym for nearly 3 years is a subject of older posts, but suffice it to say, in the years that followed I’d come to experience a lot of turbulence and change in my personal life. As a result, the gym became my escape, a sanctuary where I could forget about the past and surrender to the present. While I still concern myself with things beyond my control, as I look back at that old picture, it occurs to me that the difference between the two guys isn’t weight so much as it is a state of mind. Both struggle(d) with self-esteem, but the guy on the left was hobbled by his insecurities, while the guy on the right learned to fight and physically push back on the only barrier standing in his way – himself.
MORAL OF THE POST: Honor the moment and never underestimate the magnitude of kindness.