Letting go of measuring my life in pounds
I entered high school at 5'10" and 145lbs. No matter what I did, I couldn't shake being scrawny, and I hated it. I felt like I had to fight for every pound. I'd eat multiple peanut butter sandwiches a day, despite hating peanut butter. I'd drink a liter of milk and work out everyday because I wanted to be a better rugby player. That's what I said, but the truth was I wanted to be more attractive, a fact that was too hard to admit. I felt ashamed for wanting to look good as working out for looks felt wrong, but for utility felt right. I don't know where these feelings came from, but I never vocalized them. My body was holding me back from girls, rugby, and fitting in.
No excuses from my body type to metabolism, would quell the insatiable hunger to get bigger and gain control. I spent my free time on bodybuilding.com learning about workout routines, journaling everything I ate, and every weight I moved. My goal was always to reach 220lb, the lowest weight I thought I needed to look "normal". Clothes would fit better, and I'd no longer be scrawny or lanky. Meanwhile my best friend was working hard to lose weight, running at night while I joined him on my bike, unable to afford to lose the calories.
When I entered college at 6'5", and 185lbs, I continued the same routine. This time I had more time to dedicate to it, but the additional time didn’t outweigh the drinking, poor eating, and sleeping habits. I could never crack 195lbs. Even after graduating, getting a full-time job, the pursuit continued. My sleep improved, my calorie intake rose to 6000/day and so did my body weight. I reached 210lbs, had a belly for the first time, and was strong. I started aspiring to join the 1000lbs club where your three major lifts; bench, squat and deadlift add up to 1,000lbs. It was then that I began to realize what I was doing was unhealthy. I thought the problem was the speed at which I gained the weight, not my obsession with weight gain. It needed to be more gradual and calculated, so I kept working out, this time not gorging on food, and slowly came down to 200lb.
At 28, after having my first born child, I decided to sign up for a gran fondo, a marathon equivalent for cycling. I got an indoor trainer, had my bike fitted by a professional, bought a heart rate monitor, and a Garmin watch. I spent 1-3 hours everyday on this hamster wheel, something that was a big change for a guy that despised cardio. Not only would I lose weight, it was boring. I started studying kinesiology, becoming addicted to metrics like functional threshold power, heart rate, heart rate zones, stress, cadence, and heart rate variability. My watch became a close friend and companion, the first time I developed a relationship with an inanimate object. Over months of training, my cardio improved, I lost weight, started riding for longer, and summiting higher. I loved the pain, the outdoors, the speed, the adrenaline from the descents, the coffee and pastry breaks, and the camaraderie of the group. I also started to confront myself in the mirror. At 6'5" and weighing 165-170lbs, I was scrawny. I re-sculpted my entire body, taking the male triangle and inverting it. With little fat, my ribs, collar bone and cheek-bone would protrude more. I was reshaping my identity. I was no longer a rugby player but a cyclist, and my body was finally an advantage. I was no longer swimming upstream. I did the race, one of the most fun and challenging experiences. I rode inside a peloton, pushing one another and collectively suffering. Months of training for a seven hour ride, covering 165.27Â km and 2,700Â m of elevation. The real win was that I was comfortable being skinny for the first time in my life.
Now, at 34, and it's been several years since that race. I still get on my bike a couple of times a year. I did a triathlon when my second child was born, so I've been running more which is more conducive to the family lifestyle. I've been hovering at 185lbs over the past couple of years, only knowing from my annual doctor visits. I no longer wear a watch, track weight, or any type of activity metric. I'm paying more attention to my body, and it's a healthier relationship. I’ve entirely shifted towards consistency and finding joy in movement. Lifting boosts my confidence, running gives me endorphins, and both giving me mental clarity. I experiment with new movements, and it's fun and exciting. In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been doing Pilates, and I’m loving it. I no longer set arbitrary goals to test myself or burn out. I’m finally at peace with the mirror, my weight, and my body, enjoying my body in motion like I did when I was a kid. It only took me 20 years.