Tomorrow Never Comes

“I’ll start tomorrow.” We’ve all uttered those words. I do! I did! I probably will. Here’s the dirty little secret we NEVER tell ourselves; tomorrow never comes. It keeps getting pushed back and back and back…etc.




I spent my entire life with “tomorrows.” I would start my diet on New Year’s Day. I would start working out after the semester was over. I eat healthier when at lunchtime when I finished this next big project. Pretty soon my calendar was full of dates with myself that I kept pushing back.



I wasn’t making myself a priority. I didn’t realize that health wasn’t something to schedule for the future, but something to act upon right now. I still remember that first day on my journey. There was still a bag of chips in the house. I thought, “Oh I’ll snack on them every now and then. I’ll follow the serving size…blah.” About the third trip to refill the bowl I looked at my hands, covered in chip grease. That old nagging though whispered, “Tomorrow.”



There in my kitchen with a bag of BBQ Chips to witness I came to a crossroads. Would I continue to deny myself the date with healthy living or would I seize today? Obviously, I seized today. I tossed the entire bag in the trash. I avoided the Miranda Hobbs’ moment and DID NOT pull said bag out of the garbage and reconsume. I scooped out the trash and took it out.



Tomorrow would never come, but today was here. If I wanted a string of todays I had to stop promising myself a tomorrow and begin taking today. By taking today I made myself a priority. I told myself that I was important enough to make time for and to care for. Each day I have to remember this. Each morning when I start my day with a workout, take a 15 minute break to walk outside, do yoga during a conference call (my coworkers are laughing as they read this), or choose a healthier lunch I am giving myself today. It’s a struggle, but it also allows me a life without day planners with pushed back appointments.

Favorite Form of Torture

When I was an “in-denial fat guy” I use to look at exercise as torture. The image of a chubby Melissa chained to the treadmill forced to run for hours with a hostess cupcake dangling just out of reach would come to mind. Indeed that was the only way I was going to religiously hit the gym. I hate running. I hate jogging. I hate treadmills. Those forms of exercises are torture in my mind. Still are.




The idea of running equaling working out is common. When we think about working out we picture running. Images of the gym are rows of petite blondes with bouncy ponytails marathoning (I have officially invented this word) on the treadmill. Secretly I want to unplug the machines in my fantasy.



So, at nearly 300lbs and 27 the idea of hitting the torture house with these Barbie doll clones was not my idea of fun. Nobody is going to stick with something if it isn’t fun. Even the deep fried brain of a fat guy in denial understood this. If I wanted to embrace exercise and truly integrate it into my life I had to find one that worked for me.



That’s the secret to sticking with an exercise plan. We don’t have to make ourselves fit the exercise plan, but find one that works with us. Once we find the good fit, we’re unstoppable. I found my match in Yoga. That quiet Sunday I switched over to the Exercise on Demand feature and scrolled through the options. First, was some kick butt cardio blast with Jillian. I wanted to die or cry. How could I stick with this? It was not fun, at first. I needed something fun; something that didn’t feel like work. I clicked on Yoga with Tom Morley. Bam! I was hooked.



It was a cardio based Yoga that blended movement with the stretching of Yoga. I felt energized. I felt sore, but in a good way. The sweat that poured down felt more like tiny badges of honor. It was like playing kick ball with friends in Elementary School. I didn’t realize I was doing something good for me. I was having fun.



I incorporated this fun into my life. I started off with two days, then three, and finally five. I used this fun to propel me to other workouts. In a way Yoga was my gateway drug. It opened up my perception of exercise allowing me to embrace other practices that would benefit me. I still hate the treadmill and avoid it when I hit the gym. I realized that I didn’t have to conform to what those bouncy ponytails where doing.



The trick to exercise is not working out, it’s having fun. Find what fun is for you and incorporate into your life. You’ll be doing something fun and treating yourself at the same time.

Fat Guy Porn

After returning home yesterday I found myself laying flat on my belly, the hands holding up my chin as my eyes gazed up at the television in pure ecstasy. The Cooking Channel featured chocolate on their “Unique Sweets” show. My mouth watered at the anticipation of each dish displayed and described in a way to invoke seduction of the viewer. Soon I found myself craving to dip everything in chocolate, even Liam. He laughed sitting on the couch as I eyed each dish like a ravenous dog.




“This like porn for fat people,” he joked. This morning as I looked up the different restaurants featured on the show I realized it was! It was someone watching pornography, getting turned on, and then finding a way of “releasing” themselves. My way of relieving myself was a piece of toast smothered in Nutella and planning to visit one of those restaurants while in Chicago for the Holidays.



It is almost pornographic they way we depict food in this culture. We are seduced by food. We use the same language about food as we do about sex. We crave. We cheat. We etc… Just think about it. Sex and food at so closely aligned in this culture. They are the basic needs of this culture, to eat and to reproduce through sexual activity. Both experiences have been cheapened or given an extreme price. Both leave us with a mixture of feelings. Both make fill or distract us.



So the idea of being seduced by food to fulfilling a longing deep inside isn’t that far fetched if we think about it? In fact chocolate releases the same chemical in the brain that is released during climax (medical fact). That might explain the endless love affair women have had with chocolate; the kindness and most unforgiving of partners. Chocolate is that bad boy, so smooth and sweet in the moment, only to leave us heart broken as we try to zip up our jeans the next morning.



This love affair we have with food can be seen in all aspects of our culture. Whether it’s the cheap and tawdry trysts like the Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest and “Man v. Food” or the expensive four course romances at the finest restaurant. The truth is we’ve all been seduced by food. I know I have.



The trouble is how do we resist the temptation? It’s like trying to break up with the guy that we know is so wrong for us, but we keep sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet up with. Although, just like in those cases it’s not the seducer that is the enemy, it’s us. How do we handle the temptation? How do we not loose ourselves to food?



Part of me wants to crawl back into the unforgiving arms of indulgence, living in a self-imposes delusion of the truth. However, each time I slip into that affair again, I find myself losing the greatest love of all; my self. How do we create a healthy relationship with food, while still enjoying those little trysts? This is a question I will struggle with and continue to do so.