Necessary Roughness

Tonight was the last episode of “The Biggest Loser” and the first one I ever watched. I was utterly amazed at the weight loss and that months into the training, one guy still lost 10 pounds in a week.

After voting the last person off, the people, each having lost over 100 pounds, was faced with their former selves. Two people were absolutely revulsed at what they saw, while the third guy, Matt, felt compassion for his old self.

If you see a skinny roughneck, it’s because he has the metabolism of a hummingbird. Not knowing when or where the next decent meal was going to be, and knowing they need calories for heavy equipment setup, they eat big. They are also on 24-hour on-call, so it’s impossible to schedule regular work-outs. When the Company solicited members for a softball team in the field camp, I wondered who could even sign their name to that.

While I wasn’t ever reality-show-big, there was a time when my 6′4″ frame was carrying 315 pounds. Before Thanksgiving 2002. Christmas had rolled around, and I couldn’t fit in any pants I got for gifts. I have pictures from a vacation in Frankenmuth, Michigan, that did not look good at all. I was miserable and angry, and I said to myself, “never again”.

I cut out the nonzero-cal pop. Cut all portions in half. Actually did the Subway diet for lunch and dinner, again just fitting the whole portion control logic. Walked for an hour. Daily. Saturdays I refereed games. I was obsessive about routine (shocker). And yes, prayer was involved.

What also helped was that I was in Louisiana teaching alone. I seem to be a social eater, and even when I’m listening I don’t want to just stop eating and give the impression that I don’t want to be there. If I have a sandwich in the hotel room, I’m done in 15 minutes or whatever, and it’s off to the treadmill or TaeBo. In Houston there is always someone who wants to go out, and since the trainers don’t see much of each other when we’re on our tours of duty, it’s almost necessary to catch up and shoot the bull.

Anyways, my bad obsession worked. By the next July I was down to 245 and leveled off for a couple of months. Six inches gone off the waist, I was asking for smaller clothes. My doctor asked me if I was OK. It was a very good thing. I remember looking at the old pictures and being surprised about they way I had looked, but it was more of a sense of accomplishment and thankfulness rather than “Ewww”, as was Suzy’s response. I hope there are not more issues there for her.

Things are different now, 25 pounds back on my waist. The treadmill is worn out at the house, the circuit breaker popping about 5 minutes into a run. I do get arm work that I didn’t three years ago, in the form of 35-lb freespirited weights. The clothes are telling me that what I’m doing isn’t enough though, and I’ve got to get obsessed again about food.

After Thanksgiving, of course.