I have long struggled with this sense of comparison, likely since high school. I wasn’t the cool kid, or the fast kid, or the smart kid, or the strong kid, or the popular kid. I was the pudgy, mouthy, nerdy, WWE-loving kid. Which, hey, that was fine, but a significant sense of resentment began to build in my post high school years around that fact.
Why wasn’t I dating the hot girl or running in the cool crowd or whatever else society and Hollywood sells as the best?
Why wasn’t I one of them? What made me different? Ultimately, nothing, but that desire to be seen as good enough (or, in my more prideful days, as superior) to fit in with the “in-crowd” fueled the fire for that initial climb back in 2013.
Well, now it’s different. I fit in just fine in my church, and it has nothing to do with my size. People at every job I’ve ever had have loved and accepted me. I have a fantastic relationship with my family and have never been blessed with better friends than I have today.
So where, oh where do I find that motivation? Simply put, the calculus has changed. God has moved the pieces around the board. As I’ve turned out of a rough spiritual, emotional and physical corner in my life, searching for the next challenge to motivate myself has been tricky.
But as I sit here, I realize it’s the same carrot as always. One number has danced in my mind’s eye for a long time, a figure that would so clearly represent the fulfillment of each drop of sweat. It would mean the end of that part of my life forever.
I started this journey at 378+. The goal weight is, was, and will always be 199 pounds. Once I hit 199, the game can change entirely — perhaps I’ll try and get ripped, or I’ll work on becoming a great runner, who knows. But for now, I march on to that number and what changes it would bring.
Medium t-shirts? Size 28 jeans? These are dreams for me now. But I already know I can achieve those things, because I’ve done it. And finally, oh finally, I’m getting the groove back. I sense it, I feel it.