It was 2009. I had recently returned from a 2 month mission in Bahrain and I was feeling good about myself and my life. I knew I was getting heavier, but I had always been skinny. I thought the extra weight would probably be good for me. Then I went to my cousins wedding, in Maryland.
It was an event of laughter, family, merriment and photography. I was not a big photographer, but I took a few pictures of the proceedings. More importantly, I appeared in a few photos. I can close my eyes and see that fateful image. I was standing to the side of the dancefloor, watching my cousin dance with his new bride. My long, glorious hair was halfway down my back. My arms were crossed.
My arms were crossed and resting on my belly. My belly.
My belly was big enough that I could rest my crossed arms on it.
But I’m the skinny one! How could my arms be resting on my gut?
That was the wakeup call that something wasn’t right. I started trying to ‘eat healthy’. I started cooking more frequently, and even baking my own bread. I was active, though I didn’t go to the gym. I walked my dog 3 miles every evening. But I wasn’t seeing any changes. I really didn’t want to start going to the gym. Gym workouts just made me feel like crap for days and days afterwards. Sore arms, sore legs… and who wants to feel like that all the time?
I went on a 4 month mission to Nicaragua in early 2010. I started reading PUA literature and my co-workers, Jameson & Danielle, were more than happy to meet me in the hotel gym every afternoon for a workout. Jameson was a former bodybuilder in college, and Danielle was in a friendly competition with her husband to lose the most weight over the 4 month stretch. I resolved to put up with the soreness and give it a go. I hated it, but I did get into a rhythm which I attempted to maintain once I returned home. I failed.
A month after I was home, I wasn’t exercising anymore.
Then I met Kathy at a Sip & Paint event at a local art gallery in Biloxi. In a few weeks, she introduced me to Wednesday Night Line Dancing at a local nightclub.
Now, I quickly observed that after dancing from 7-9pm…. I was done for the night. Kathy was still up and running around. She would go home, take care of her grandfather and then come back to me. I wanted a nap. She wanted something more physical.
My inability to keep going without a nap really, really bothered me. What was I doing wrong??!!
Next post… what I learned from these sites that worked for me.