Changing your life is hard.
Changing your life in the most public way imaginable is even harder.
When I set out to lose a bunch of weight, I had no idea what I would encounter. I just thought I’d eat some food that didn’t come with the option to upsize, walk on a treadmill and I’d call it a day.
And I certainly never thought this blog would be read by people in over 20 different countries around the world.
That still blows my mind. But I digress.
It’s been a lot more than eating a salad and walking a treadmill.
It’s hard, man. And I don’t mean to throw anyone off who’s currently on their own journey. Especially those who find inspiration from this blog, and my own foibles.
But, it is.
It’s hard even without saying it out loud to a veritable assload of people from every far-flung country on the planet.
I’m talkin’ to you Angola. Who loves ya? I do, that’s who.
But in all seriousness, the ups and downs of this little trip have been bananas.
And I’ve not been perfect. I’ve made a tonne of mistakes.
And the people in my life that care have been so patient and understanding. Even when I flail about in uncertainty and insecurity. Many times to the detriment of those I care about most.
In large part I’ve kept a lot of that stuff out of the blogs.
But man, it happens.
I’ve eaten stuff I wasn’t supposed to. I’ve not exercised when I said I was going to.
I’ve gone off medication that I was supposed to be taking because I thought I had things all sewed up — tickety-boo. And I’ve suffered the consequences of those actions — which have been many.
This hasn’t been a flawless effort, is what I’m trying to say. It’s been messy at times.
I’m fucking human.
So, if you’re out there and you’re reading this blog and saying “Jesus, this guy doesn’t have any of the problems I’m having,” — dude, no… I’m with ya.
It’s wicked hard.
But here’s the difference between me now and me a year and a half ago.
I will never quit.
If I screw up? Big deal, man. People screw up every day. It’s not the screw up, it’s how I handle the morning after. Do I wake up and say to myself, “well, what’s the point”? Or do I stand in front of that mirror and love myself enough to give it another shot?
You’re damn right I give myself another shot.
Because I deserve to be happy. And part of that is me allowing that process (for lack of a better term) to happen.
Sometimes people ask me what the hardest part about this whole “journey” has been?
I get in the way of myself more times than you can shake a stick at.
And sometimes I sit there blocking my own way for a long time.
Like, a LONG time.
But eventually I always figure it out. And I give myself a little tap on the butt and gently push me to the side so I can get through and continue on.
I’m lucky to have great people around me. And I’m lucky to have people reading this blog and telling me every post “hey man, I feel just like that”. It makes me feel like I’m not alone in this. And it makes me happy to think that others may draw strength in knowing the exact same thing.
For those of you out there struggling — with whatever it is you’ve got. Whether it’s weight, drugs, booze, gambling, or whatever it may be — change can happen.
It’s hard. It’s messy. But it’s possible.
Your knees are gonna get scraped up. Your nose bloodied. And you’ll face battles you never anticipated.
And you may even get lost for a spell.
But if you allow just a minute of compassion, you’ll find yourself again.
And you’ll straighten your shirt, dust off your shoes, wipe your nose in your sleeve, and keep going down that path.
And eventually you will wind up exactly where you intended to.
Smack dab in the middle of happiness.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.