Larger than life

One of the hardest things you'll ever have to do as a human being is admit that there is something wrong with you. This is perfectly normal. After all, we're conditioned to hide our weaknesses and imperfections in order not to miss out on things that feel good (whether they're good or not).

In our formative years, revealing that we had a learning disability made you a social outcast, so you cheated. Admitting that you were lying would take away the thing you won through the lie. Taking ownership of your addiction is the first step to getting rid of it... Getting rid of something that pleases you.

Then again, what is pleasure but a bunch of chemicals rushing through your system, programming the brain to feel bliss and nothing more? Soon enough, you stop feeling. A time later, you stop being involved in your own life. You become worthless, though it feels so good.

And so, here I am, on a treadmill in some gym, looking around at the group of people that are here to improve their bodies. What other things do they have yet to deal with? Even the best sculpted body is just that, human. We are an imperfect bunch.

I admit to myself and to all of you, dear readers, that there is something wrong with me. Food of all types has become my addiction, my toy, and my comfort. Eating is my master. And I carry the burden of this imperfection with me every day. The thing is that I now admit this, and it's going to be a battle - nay, a war - to rid myself of this one thing that is, quite literally, weighing me down.

See, I want to be around forever, if possible. But I'm not going to be around if I keep eating more than I burn off. I know this. Furthermore, I want to be larger than life not in the literal sense. That's going to take stamina, concentration, balance, determination, and being prepared for the long haul. So I have to take on this challenge of at least losing 10% of my body weight by New Year's, then another 10% by Spring, and the last 10% to be at my best weight (and fitness) by the day of the wedding. It's going to be tough, but not tougher than taking this first step to fixing something which is seriously wrong with me.