I’m coming up on one of my milestone goals.
I arbitrarily set them every 25lbs, so I’d have 10 “Milestones” on my total journey from 475 to 225. I’m getting close to 350, which is the halfway point. I guess that makes this a MILESTONE GOAL instead of a milestone goal.
I’d been told, have read, and heard many times that this is where things will start to get hard. That’s accurate. It IS starting to get hard. The aches and pains are becoming a little more pronounced at times. That nagging feeling in my lumbar nags a little louder than before. Some gym days are exercises in pure willpower to get dressed after work and go to the gym when I really don’t want to.
It’s not because I’m tired. I’m not.
It’s not because I’m hurting. I’ve dealt with pain for much of my life, I’m used to it and don’t let it dictate what I can and can’t do.
It’s because… it’s working. I know that doesn’t make sense.. let me try to explain.
When I started work at my current job two and a half years ago, I bought some new clothes. I had worked in an industrial office environment and now was working in a more formal office environment. I bought slacks, shoes, shirts.. you name it. The shirts were 4XLT (4x Extra Large, Tall) shirts. I’m NOT tall but I needed the extra length so the shirt was long enough to tuck into my pants after making the Magellanic circumnavigation around my enormous gut.
They’re great shirts- they were priced well, look good, and have held up to daily use for 30+ months.
… but they don’t fit anymore. I’ve lost almost 125 pounds since I bought them, and they fit me like a 55 gallon Hefty garbage bag fits a kitchen trash can. So at H4rpy’s
prodding, I bought a pair of new shirts. I had been waiting, because I wanted to get two sizes down- I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on 3x shirts that hopefully won’t fit for more than a few months.
But 2X? The last time I wore 2X shirts, I was in pretty good shape from a muscular standpoint, I was 26 years old instead of 36, and I weighed 260 instead of 360. “There’s no way,” I thought.
insisted I should get them, because if they don’t fit perfectly now, they will soon, and I’ll get years of use out of them. She was quite right, so I ordered two shirts to test.
I don’t mean I could squeeze into them and they’re strained. I mean they fit. They fit properly.
I weigh 360 pounds and have a gut the size of the Death Star, but I’ve managed to burn off enough fat and add enough muscle to my body that I fit into a 2XL (note: NOT a 2XL Tall- just plain old 2XL) shirt and have it look right.
Do you know what this means?
I can go clothes shopping in normal stores again.
This is a huge victory. This is one of those life moments where it all starts to pay off, and you see the results becoming real for the first time.
It’s the perfect time for the voice of Self Sabotage to speak up from the shadows of my psyche, needling me just when I’m feeling good, when I’m at my most vulnerable, when I think I really CAN do this, reminding me that I really SHOUDLN’T feel good.
“You’ve made it, big guy… so take it easy! Slow down, you’ve beaten me.. I yield! You don’t need to keep doing this to yourself! Take a day off, rest a bit.. hell, have a treat! You know you’ve earned it, right?”
My response is thus:
&@#% the voice in my head, and !#@% 2XL shirts.
I’m done when I say I’m done, not when my insecurities tell me “It’s Good Enough.”
The voice in my head can piss off, because I’ve got lifting to do and miles to ride before this is over, and I’m the one who decides when the train stops.