Good Luck Chuck

I have a confession to make. I don't want to lose weight. I want to loose Chuck. I know! Chuck who? Well it is kinda hard to explain but I will do my best because I feel that you all deserve the truth. You have been so good to me and I want to make sure that we have full disclosure here. No secrets. Ok. Whew! Here goes.
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The shocking truth is that I am actually not overweight. In reality I weigh 200 pounds or so (give or take an ounce). I am very fit and my eating habits are impeccable. I have always been active and love to do all kinds of outdoor things. Camp, run, hike, swim...I love it all. Chuck on the other hand does not like to do any of those things.

Ooook...I think at this point I should describe Chuck to you so you can have a clear mental picture to help guide you through my moment of honesty.

Chuck is...well...an 150 pound, amorphous, blob that has attached himself to my body. He has no eyes, ears, limbs or bones. My favorite nickname for him is "Dead Weight". He hates it when I call him that. He gets sooo pissed at me. Hehehehehe. Oh! I forgot to mention that he does have his own thoughts and they are, unfortunately, tapped into mine.

The only person he tries to communicate with is me. For a while there he was pretty much driving the bus when it came to what we ate and what we did. Let me tell you, we ate a lot and did very little thanks to him.

I meet Chuck about 20 years ago when I was a newly married father. He wasn't as big as he is now of course. He was only about 10 pounds back then. He stayed that size for a little while, and really wasn't that bothersome. But as my life got busier and my responsibilities heavier, Chuck just kinda started taking over. It was my fault really. I kept giving him all these opportunities to speak his mind. He took serious advantage of it.

I was away from home and family a lot while I was trying to go to school and eek out a living. I worked long hours and when I was not working I was at school. We were constantly broke too. Being 18 with a baby and not having a very high paying job can really drain the finances. This left things wide open for Chuck to dictate what I ate. It seemed like he had all kinds of excuses for eating like crap. It wasn't just the fact that his food choices were bad, it was the sheer volumes of food he would shove in my mouth as well.

Chuck steadily began to grow and soon started doing all the thinking for the both of us. Well...I should clarify that statement. He did all the thinking when it came to eating and moving. He would always make us take the car to the store that was just 3 blocks away. Insisted on eating out rather than eating in, even when we had food to make. Man it was bad. It got to the point where I just could not fight anymore.

Oh I tried to fight. I actually got a few good punches in, but he had grown bigger and stronger over the years. By the time I had known him for about a decade or so, he had gotten up to about 90 pounds. It didn't look like he was gonna stop either. The more I fought, it seemed like he got stronger. There were times when I had to just throw in the towel. He was definitely the Heavyweight Champ of rationalization and laziness.

He got a taste for alcohol around about the decade mark as well, and it seemed like it didn't take long before he had grown to 150 pounds. Basically the weight of my (now) 20 year old son. Yes. Everyday I carry around an entire person on my frame. I can imagine how conjoined twins must feel.

Chuck makes it really difficult to do a lot of things. My usually healthy self has been held prisoner to his every whim. I was able to sneak in a healthy snack here and there when he was asleep from some food induced coma. I even managed a walk or two, but his influence had caused the healthy side of me to atrophy and almost die. The turning point in the control game came when I found SparkPeople.

Oh, man was he pissed when he woke up one morning and saw me with my running shoes on. He tried to get into my brain, but no dice. While he was passed out from some drunken bender, I signed up for the site and found the last bit of will power I had left over from the old days, before I meet him.

For the first month it was like living with a 2 year old with a tantrum. Unfortunately for him, I had raised two children, so I am familiar with the terrible twos. I never gave into my kids when they did that crap and so I was prepared. His attempts bounced off me like bullets off of Superman. It felt good to stand up to that jackass!

He still speaks to me and tries to get me to go back to the old ways, but they are really just whispers anymore. Sort of the last gasp of the dying. I just have to wait for the thoughts to disappear completely and then it will be cake. The crappy part about it is that, I am stuck with the dead weight. Although he doesn't control my thoughts anymore, his excess weight makes it really hard to get out and do the things the REAL me likes to do. Hauling him around on my body every morning, blows serious chunks. He is getting smaller by the week though.

I have actually lost close to 30 pounds of him. I know it's not gonna be easy to get rid of all of him. It was my fault for listening to his silver forked tongue in the first place. I should have known better. I did know better. I just choose to listen to him instead of be true to myself. I'm a big boy and no longer live in denial though. Owning up to my mistakes and righting the wrongs from my choices is part of being an adult.

I gotta say though, the thought of carrying this lifeless parasite around with me is motivation enough to work my ass off everyday. The healthy me is taking over now and Chuck is on his way out. I wish I could just have him surgically removed, but that is expensive and painful. Plus he could come back if I don't take the time to lose him slowly and with purpose.

It looks like I will just have to be patient and bury my dark passenger a pound at a time for now. Like I said, 30 down and 120 to go.

See ya Chuck! It's been real.