Encouragement from Ben

We have a bad day—or a bad couple days

And it pulls us down. Hard.
There have been many times in the past two years of this voyage when I’ve had some very depressed episodes over a few days of eating poorly. Some negative attitudes will occasionally perpetuate themselves—ultra guilt-trips after a couple missed training runs.
A weigh-in or two that doesn’t go the right way. A pound or two gain. Or even the “just a pound” loss.
We beat ourselves up even worse than we did when this was our life.
But it still is our life. And we have to remember that these two or three day binges used to be the norm. Grab our belt and see how many notches we’ve carved out. Step on that scale again and realize how many pounds you’ve shed. Try on that XXXL shirt that used to be a little tight. Now it could be your blanket.
We can’t let the failures of success keep us from trying to be successful. We’ve come too far to let it stop us now.
Just put down the burger finish the burger—you deserve it—and then go for that scheduled four-miler today.

(Back story: on a flight, Ben's seat-mate asked to be moved.  He automatically took it personally.)

But the whole situation brings about a startling realization.

My first reaction was to think “what’s wrong with me?” – “What did I do wrong?”

Being the curious type—I’m always trying to figure out why things occur—I began some introspective thinking. Where does this insecurity come from?

It’s not hard to nail that down. I grew up in a very self-conscious shell. Being overweight my whole life certainly had negative impacts of my self-worth and self-image. I was constantly over-compensating with outrageous behavior—both inward outrageous (15-20 hours/day in front of a screen playing computer games) and outward (making Jackass style videos and that whole “green-hair phase.”)

But, come on, I’ve lost weight, grown up, matured a little, etc.

I look in the mirror and I see a relatively normal looking guy—a somewhat educated, somewhat intelligent (despite my father’s claims to the contrary) young man. Sure there’s the duct tape incident and the year I spent collecting pizza boxes in an effort to enter the Guinness Book of World Records (at 973, my parents made me throw them all away because of a mere “rat problem.” – I’m still slightly bitter.) But, still, I feel better than I ever have. I look as good as I ever have. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

Why, then, do I still assume there’s something wrong with me when issues arise? And it’s not just me. I’ve realized this is a common theme. Most people assume the worst. We beat ourselves up and we blame ourselves even when it’s not rational or logical.

It seems to me that we’re wasting a lot of time beating ourselves into the ground. Yeah, we’ve lost weight or run marathons or fit into that goal bikini; we’ve come a long way, but our mind still has a lot of work to do.

Let’s start by not assuming we’re to blame because, more often than not, we’re actually not.

So when that guy leaves you sitting alone in seat 21E, remind yourself, he’s missing out.

And smile.

And sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.