The Man in the Mirror
Who is that man in the pictures, The Man in the Mirror?
There is something disconcerting about seeing the lean me. It is as though I am seeing someone else, someone not me, someone I barely know, a mere acquaintance, a friend of a friend’s friend.
You would think that after 52 years I would know me on sight but I don’t. I see me. I know it is me. I just don’t know that it is me.
This picture is what has me thinking about this. I am at a rest area on the Five Boro Bike Tour. New York City, my favorite city, is in the background. It is a beautiful day and I distinctly remember the picture being taken, the feelings I had as I stood and looked at the Manhattan skyline, the joy of the ride. I just don’t remember being the person in the picture.
I have a long way to go. Many days, weeks, months, maybe even years, before I am accustomed to being this person, this person in the picture.
I am accustomed to being fat, to being big, to being the old me, the me I was on and off since I was in my early twenties.
I look in the mirror and I am still surprised to see who is looking back. I am still expecting to see the 300 pound me or maybe the 280 pound me. The 200 pound me is still so unfamiliar to me.
There is a loss of identity. I am not sure who I am in this new body of mine.
I think perhaps that is part of the psychology of weight gain after a weight loss. This sense of being lost, not knowing who you are, what you are, if you are not the fat person you are so accustomed to being. I think perhaps this is why I talk about the loss so much, the Journey, why I write this blog…
If I talk about it, the me I was the me I am getting to be, If I stay in touch with the old me by talking about him, then I don’t miss being me so much….
Don’t misunderstand: I do not want to ever be that person again. I am just trying to understand why I am not yet the person I see in the mirror, the man in the picture.
A Good Story to Tell
Today someone told me that I have a good story to tell. This was meant in a very good way. I took it in a very good way.
I guess I do have a good story to tell. What else can I say about being fat, out of shape and slowly killing myself one extra serving at a time?
I m proud of having lost the weight. I am proud of improving my fitness. I am proud of keeping the weight off.
This is why I keep telling the story.
I am told that I inspire people. That still surprises me even though I have been told this many times. I am so surprised that I am seen as an inspiration. I was so ashamed of myself. So embarrassed at being fat, out of shape,
being seen as out of control, slovenly.
So maybe that is why I am seen as an inspiration. Because I took control, got it together and had the courage to write about it here.
It is a good story. I will keep telling it. If it inspires someone to work towards better health… Well it feels good to think that I may have in some small way helped someone along their Journey
Here is the picture of me with both legs in one pants leg. It makes me chuckle to see it….