A Casualty of The War On Fat…


On the 31st of August my pal (who I call Squishy) and I decided to combine forces of encouragement in the hopes of tackling the frustratingly difficult journey of losing weight. We figured the best way would be to motivate each other and share what foods we were eating throughout the day. You know like a keep-each-other-in-check kind of thing. She would be my Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson and I would be her Jason Momoa. We would be motivators, terminators, hulkinators and whatever else kind of -ators we could think of.  After laying out the foundation of our ingenious plan, we decided that the best time to start this magical invigorating quest was on the first of September. Which of course was the next day.

As the first day of our amazing diet was upon us, we… wait, I suppose I should only refer to myself since I really have no clue what she was thinking about on that morning. However, I am pretty confident that on the first day, she would have felt similar to me. Either way, that morning I woke up feeling like I could conquer the world. I felt alive, with no doubts polluting the crevices of my brain. My buddy would totally agree. Plus give me a slight eye roll for over exaggerating my enthusiasm. I was pumped but let’s be honest, I was moderately pumped.


The first day went great and so did the second. We were literally killing it! Throughout this time we would snap a picture of each meal and send it over. That way we could secretly see the portion sizes and analyse if we were doing a good job. To be honest, I could sit here and tell you about every day. But I won’t, because that’s not why I’m writing this post and furthermore it would be a snooze-fest. So don’t you worry my cute little pandas, I wouldn’t put you through that agony. However I will state that today would have been the 16th day of our amazing detox, cleaning from the inside out, dieting extravaganza. Now, do you want to know how long we actually lasted for? We started on a Monday and the cards came crashing down on that Friday. You see what both of us failed to realise is that a) the weekends would be a huge challenge and b) it would seem that we were quietly lying to ourselves. I don’t mean we were lying about what we were doing. I mean our subconscious, was literally lying to us and making us think that us two idiots would ever come close in mimicking the awesome motivational powers of Johnson and Momoa. We were no match. Our brains were wired differently. And something inside them made us cheat, rebel and break all the rules. Why?! And where in Sweatsville did my motivation run off to?!!


Somewhere along the lines I became a casualty on the war of fat on my body. I stopped trying. I stopped motivating myself. And for the life of me, I can’t seem to get out of this funk. After work I would come home and attempt to put on my gym clothes so I could go for a run. But something drags me. It’s as if my legs were dredging through a vat of cement. Every evening I would go through this. And one tiny phrase would ricochet off my brain cells with a glimmer of hope attached to it…. “I will start tomorrow. I will conquer and be awesome tomorrow.” And with that tiny little itty-bitty bullshit I spewed to myself, I then would sit my fat ass down and watch TV like a big ol’ pumpkin until I’d get tired and fall asleep.

I truly don’t know what went wrong. I never used to be like this. But how do I just start something? I know that’s the most stupidest question alive but I think I ask it because secretly I know the long and hard road I would eventually be on once I start the journey. I know what I have to do but I don’t want to do it for months, years, or a lifetime. And therein lies my problem. What I have to get through my thick skull is that being healthy is a lifestyle choice. You can’t just go on diets and then eat like a fatty after it. You will eventually gain it all back. I need to realise that if I want a better me, then I need to make health and fitness my life. It’s really that simple.

My friend and I failed to realise that we were the worst motivators for one another. It’s laughable at how unmotivational we were. A few “good jobs” and a couple “well done’s” did not make for a healthy weight loss regime. We failed to understand that we should have been all Bruce Lee about this situation. Instead we acted like fluffy Care Bears. Our motto would have been ‘Loosing weight, one hug at a time…” We went from yapping everyday (for 2 days straight mind you) to not getting in contact with each other for over a week now. That says a lot doesn’t it…We were just too similar in this department.

I think I need to get a defibrillator on my chest ASAP so as I can jump start my flatlining motivation. I don’t see any other way. I know it’s all in my head. But to be perfectly honest, what do you do when you literally have no will power? You are screwed. Something has got to give though. Because when I really think about it, I don’t want to be another casualty statistic on some fit trainer’s board of ‘Don’ts’. I want to be a ‘Do’ gosh dang it! I want to be a DO!

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