Rock Bottom

They say that you need to hit bottom before you rectify significant problems in your life. Although I don't usually listen to 'they' (I actually dislike 'they' greatly) I will have to give them credit on this occasion.

I've spent the last decade and a half believing that I'd start my training 'tomorrow'. Tomorrow never arrived. I've traveled with my sneakers and gym gear on more occasions than I care to remember. On the vast majority (95% plus!) they were the only clean item being unpacked upon my return. My sneakers have more air miles than most people! I've done the gym thing. I've purchased the 'great abs in 10 days' magazine. Nether have assisted me in losing a single pound (kilo for those in Europe!). In actual fact, the magazines have probably sent me in the opposite direction! Where's the magazine with the headline 'lose a few pounds in the few moments between work and dealing with a vomiting 2 year old'! I know, not a sexy title. But probably one that more people could relate to.

That's part of the road traveled. So, 'how did I reach bottom?', I hear you ask. Well, I hit the real world and a reality check slapped me in the face. The slap was by way of a few games of tennis with a friend of mine, whom I hadn't been 'sporty' with for many years. Whilst my path took me via the 'overweight father' route, his road kept him firmly in the gym training for numerous sports activities. Now I'm not saying that he's a super-fit guy, he'd be the first to admit that he's not. He is however in 'living shape'.

So after I picked up the last ball and what remained of my dignity, I stumbled off to the changing room to sit in a cold shower to cool down (it was 75 degs. outside). After the game we retired to the pool to meet up with my family. As I sat there I realized that I was one of the fattest and most unfit people there. How the hell did that happen? One day you like sports & normal fit jeans don't require you to breath in whilst you zip them up. The next you're buying larger pants because they've 'shrunk' (!) in the wash and wearing your tee shirt outside your shorts! Why is this? Oh, because I didn't have time to do anything in the last 15 years! What kind of garbage is that! Obviously the kind of garbage I believed for all these years.

I'm kind of an analytical person, so I sat this morning and broke it down for the last 15 years:
- 132,000 hrs total (approx, put down the calculator geek!)
- 34,000 hrs at work (9 hrs, 250 days per year)
- 44,000 hrs sleeping (7-8 hrs per night)

This accounts for only 60% of my life. I must have had some spare time in the other 40%, no? So, the question is other 40%? Well the answer is fruitful and rewarding. I got married, had children, traveled and did numerous other things along the way. I've enjoyed life. But what I've had with me for all of this journey has been a fat suit! Admittedly the fat suit was smaller 15 years ago, you need one to keep healthy. But the fat suit's getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger!

How much bigger has my fat suit gotten? Well, when I was 24 I weighed about 182. Now I'm a plump 226. By my math that's an increase of 44 lbs. More importantly all of that 44 lbs is fat. I'm not sure what that looks like, but if it's anything like the big blob of yellow stuff on a late night 'self help' fitness advert, then it's awful! I'm not saying that I'm the guy that needs to be taken out of his house with a crane, far from it. What I am saying is that I've become a statistic, and a sad one at that. Using a body mass index calculator, apparently I'm now obese! Wow, didn't know that until I hit bottom and looked it up on the net. If I had know i might have hit the deck earlier!

(By the way, a lot of people recommended calculating body mass index, or BMI, as opposed to 'body fat percentages'. Not sure why, if you keep reading you might find out! If you'd like calculate yours I recommend http://www.nhlbisupport.com/).

So, what would I have had to do to keep the 44 lbs from hiding itself under my skin (and not very well at that!). Well, according to some good Internet information then I'd need to have burnt off about 3500 calories for each pound gained. This would have required burning a total of 155,000 calories. Sounds like a lot, right? Well, apparently not! If I ran a 10 min mile I'd burn 900 calories each hour, or there abouts. So, I'd need to run for about 171 hours to burn the 155,000 calories. That's not 171 hrs per year, that's 171 hrs over the last 15 years. Less than 12 hrs per year? Could this be right? I'm not sure, all I know is that the math seems solid and that the 12 hrs/year is less than 0.1% of my time. Shocking! Guilt is creeping into this blog! Be gone, I will feel guilty no more. I'm not trying to get ripped abs, killer buns, or into the Olympics. I just want to feel healthy and good about myself.

Nor am I here to feel hopeless about my past. I can never get back the years where I've felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I can't get back the times when I've wanted to get a tan but have been too embarrassed to off my shirt. Yes, for those ladies that are reading this, some of us (guys) have the same thoughts as you, we just don't admit it.

So, what am I going to do about it? I'm going to walk before I run, but run I shall!