“The board is set, the pieces are moving. We
come to it at last... The great battle of our time.”
J. R. R. Tolkien, Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings: The
Return of the King
British scholar & fantasy novelist (1892 - 1973)
British scholar & fantasy novelist (1892 - 1973)
“The battle of Helm's
Deep is over; the battle for Middle Earth is about to begin.”
-
Gandalf,
The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
“War is Hell.”
“There is a savage beast in every man, and
when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast
stirs.”
WAR IS COMING! The words “the Board is set, the pieces are moving. We come
to it at last… The great battle of our time” echo in my head. I keep telling myself that it is time for
War. However, I am scared of war. I always have been. Most of my life I have spent passive
aggressively avoiding any and all confrontation. Though, I like a good battle in a book, or in
a movie. Hell, I even love the fact that
Sherman used total war on Georgia. The truth is when it comes to it; I would
have never gotten a red badge of courage.
I was never the fighter. A
well-known shit stirrer yes, but a warrior, never. I avoided fights like the plague. Even when I wanted to smack a few people
around or I needed to be smacked around.
However, I can’t run from this battle any longer. I have to man up and
turn and fight. It is time for my beast
to stir.
As sad as it is, and as much as I hate to admit it, I have
realized over the last few weeks, I have a very, very unhealthy relationship
with food. Call it an eating disorder,
addiction, binge eater, or even over eater, but whatever you call it, call it
true a very unhealthy, relationship with food.
Food and my weight issues is my ring.
I both love and hate my food and weight issues as I both love and hate
myself. Gollum and I are such similar
creatures in the respect. He both loved
and hated the one ring but ultimately until his doom was a slave too it. Up to this point, my food issues and my
weight have been mine.
What we won’t call it, it a lack of discipline. Or even worst call me lazy. There is nothing that gets under my skin more
or makes me anger than when I am called lazy.
I was lazy, as a child growing up.
I didn’t want to work in the garden, wash cars, and put groceries
away. I wanted to play, I want to laugh,
I wanted to imagine, and I wanted to dream.
I worked harder to get out of work than I did actually doing it. I am not that little boy anymore. No matter how easily I fall back into the
roll when I am with my parents. I do, I
know I do, but that isn’t why we are here.
I get it now. Here on the eves of
battle. I finally get it that this is
not an issue about a guy who had no discipline or lazy. Could a guy with no discipline be successful
at his work? Could a guy without
discipline or who is lazy have a resume that includes at least 20 endurance
events? I say at least because I have
done more than that and lost count.
Really, that is how many I have done, I have lost count. I know I have done 9 half marathons, 9 tri’s,
at least 6 10’s and two 25 mile rides at tour de Napa. So, see over 20. I ask you this, could some who had no
discipline be on pace to shatter his own swim goal for a quarter by the end of
the 2nd month of said quarter? Would a lazy bastard try his
damnedest to update his blog every day? Even when all he has to say is copying
some story from his past? The answer to
these questions is a big fat no. So
don’t tell me it is discipline. That I
just don’t have the will power to diet, tell me it is that I am too lazy to
cook healthy because I will call shenanigans on you.
Look, I am the last person who wants to say I have a
problem. Really, I am. I mean it.
It scares the hell out of me. My
whole life I have been able to get by without ever really having to face down
an issue. I find away. So, it is really hard to get my head around
this. However, look at me, I have an
issue. Read this fucking blog, I have an
issue. I re-read some of this shit, and
I am like man, am I fucked up or what. I
get sad about it. I’m like I can’t even
stop eating. I am saying this because I
have to. Think I am having a pity party
for myself, or making an excuse, or whatever the fuck you want. However, this shit makes me sad, because I
have a fucking issue. I write this as
much to make it real for me, as to share a story. Once I put it down and put it out there then
it is accepted. It has to be. I think that has always been my thing. It was never real to me. See, I spend very little time looking in
mirrors; see the reflection in the mirror is real. That isn’t the person I believe I am. Then one night on the way to San Francisco on
the Bart, you turn to the left and you look in the reflection in the window and
you see yourself for what you truly are.
You see that you can’t really sit up straight in the seat because you’re
just to fat. Then you start to look a
little closer at the mirror. Then you
walk into a doctor’s appointment and the doctor says oh my, you have gained
more weight. There is no surprise in the
comment, there is only, pity. Then you
try to drink your tea at specialties and notice you can’t drink with a straw
because your stomach is so fucking big it literally won’t fit, there just isn’t
the space, so you have to hold it to the side or lose the straw all
together. Then all you can see is that
reflection in the mirror. Who is that
giant? Where did I go? What happened to me? I have become my childhood’s worst
nightmare. I was always an empathetic
little bastard. I would always notice
the people at the restaurants sitting alone and eating alone. I would wonder what their story was and I
would be so sad for them because they were alone. Now, I have become that. I have become the person who sticks out in a
crowd like a sore thumb, when really all I want is to blend in. I would feel pain for the person who was
sitting alone or sticking out in the crowd.
Now, I am that pain.
I am off track. This
post isn’t about who I am; all though it is important. It is about where I am going. It is about finally standing up and putting
my shoulders back and saying. It is ok.
I am who I am. I am here at this moment
in time. That Giant in the reflection is
me. It is what I have become. That man in restaurant alone is me. I accept that. They always say the first step is admitting
you have a problem. So here it is, I am
Billy b, I am fat, and I have an issue with food. This is not joke as it is who I am. I eat for pleasure. I eat for pain. I eat when I am high. I eat to get high. I eat when I am low. My issues with food are what they are. Again, look at. Tell me what I am saying is not true. It is true.
Every word of it is truth. I have
become complacent and have been willing to accept a life less than what I want.
A life that less than what I
deserve.
So here I am, hovering just above rock bottom, b/c I hit
rock bottom. Well, I have hit is like 3
times, but that is a story for another day.
The point of all this, is I am tired. I am tired of pretending to be ok with who I
have become. I am tired of being
fat. I am tired of not being able to
wear what I want. To do the things I want to do. I am tired of being called fat by little kids
at the pool, and ya, maybe they say big, but all I hear is fat. I am tired of my friends being worried that I
am going to die, not because I am living on the edge, but because I am eating
over it. I am tired of having a bill box
that looks like I am 90 years old. I am
tired of high blood pressure. I am tired
of the fear of being a diabetic. I am
tired of being tired. I am tired of
talking. Most of all I am tried
worrying just what in the fuck would be left of me if I actually lost the
weight. What would I be? Who would I be? The only thing I need to know is this. I would be a person who has a beautiful,
although twisted mind, which can create worlds others wouldn’t even begin to
dream of. I would be this man whose
heart is so big all he wants to do is give it to the world. I would continue to spend my free time trying
to rid the world of cancer and cankles.
I would write. I would spin
tales. I would be more confident at
work. Fuck, I do a pretty good job now,
how would I be if I believed in me?
Mostly, I would live. I would no
longer hide myself from the world. I would live the life I deserve. The life I want. I would live the dream. No, the dream isn’t riches, fast cars, women,
and a mansion in the hills. I am Billy
b, not Bruce Wayne. No, the dream would
be her, me, skiing, swimming, beaches, Tri’s, roller coasters, movies, a modest
life, anyone could would be proud of, the Tower itself!
However the path to the Tower isn’t paved in yellow bricks,
it ain’t a straight line, and it sure the hell isn’t going to be easy. No the path to the Tower is covered in
blood. Because in order to get to their
one has to first become a man and go to war.
No longer be passive aggressive and hide from the battle. He must go to war, not only as the soldier
but as the general, the leader. He is
the only one who can. This war isn’t
going to be the first Gulf War either.
No, no, no. This war is going to
be the great war of our time. Think WW2, The Battle for Middle Earth, or
the Great War of Northern Oppression, I don’t care, but know I am going to
war. Know now that I see it. I get what I have to do. I have to change my life and the only way I
can do that is have the man I want to be to war with the man I am. The rivers will run red with blood, believes
will be challenged, and believes will be destroyed. They have to be because I have chosen life. I choose to make the choices that will lead
me to my Tower. I choose to fight the
great war of my time and I choose to fight it because it is for my life. There will be no peace talks, there will be
not white flags, and there can’t be compromise.
The space occupied in my head controlled by the complacent, by the faction
that believes food is the only way to have fun, to be social, and to be alive,
must be eradicated. Because now is the
time for Billy b, to be the man he knows he was meant to be. A confident man who is not afraid to live his
life and move passed this issue. He
won’t let his weight or his weight loss is what defines him. When he says his heart and mind will define
him it will not because he was so fat he had a heart attack. It will not because he couldn’t get his BP
under control and had a stroke. Now,
don’t get me wrong, KA, might decree someday that in fact the big one, or the
stroke might be what takes me into the clearing at the end of the path. However, it will be on the other side of all
this. I have been given another chance. I have been given lots of chances, but we all
have to agree, this has to be close to the last one if not the last. I am healthy.
My heart is ok. I am not a
diabetic. My blood tests all came back
negative and I was tested for everything and then some you name the good doctor
tested me for it.
Over the next few weeks I will issue a formal plan. I am going to take this in steps.
Over the next three weeks, I will work with WW on my own.
Then using therapy, my roommates help, and my swimming, I
will give us two to three months to make a significant change.
If that doesn’t work, I will go into a full time FAT camp
for 1 to 6 months.
And if the doesn’t work I will go to Stanford do their
liquid diets, get my stomach cut out and move on.
Not one of these options is easy. Not one is going to be ok and will I slide
through. It is and will be total
WAR. Leave them where they lie, all out,
march to the Sea, WAR! I will burn
Georgia so to speak if I have too.
Because WAR IS COMING. Life has
been chosen. I will do this. I will win.
I have too.
As of Today I take care of MYSELF!
Good things deserve to happen to ME!
As of Today I take care of MYSELF!
I am the Master of my own Destiny!
I can do this!
I am WORTH IT!
I choose to believe in the power of Billy b!
As of Today I take care of MYSELF!
I will win this WAR, I will Believe, and I will Achieve!
I can do this!
I deserve THIS!
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