The Living Doorway Fit Club, Part Two

We're back! Last week I promised some background info regarding my initial interest in ripped-fucking-abz, so allow me to breeze through the basic storyline before I start posting rep schemes and protein shake recipes and shit.

Long story short: I basically grew up in a drive-in style family restaurant, which meant that I had unlimited access to enormous quantities of hot dogs, burgers, french fries, and soft-serve ice cream from the ages of 1 to 19. My parents were loving and attentive and wonderful, but also very, very busy. Fall off your bike? Have an ice cream. Fall out of a tree? Have a milkshake. Fall into the river? Have a brownie fudge sundea. That sort of thing. Understandably, I was always a somewhat chubby kid, but I didn't blow up into straight-up fat (I maxed out at almost 230lbs at a height of only 5'10") until my early/mid 20's.

The cause for this drastic shift in body composition could be blamed on my punk-influenced "ethical awakening", in which I became a strict vegan (cold turkey, from 1995 to about 2004). You'd think that a switch to a diet based on grains and vegetation would lower the average persons BMI, but not in my case. Instead of being a normal vegan who eats fruits, vegetables, and whole grains, I pretty much survived on pasta, bagels, honey bbq corn chip twists, and Toffuti cuties (which are pretty revolting, in retrospect). I was basically carbo-loading every single day for nearly a decade, without bothering to do any sort of physical activity that would warrant such a massive caloric intake. I probably could have won the fucking Tour De France on the amount of carbs I was eating, assuming I had any sort of cardiovascular endurance. Which I didn't.

So I guess one day I woke up and was like, "holy shit, I'm actually a legit fat dude now" because all my clothes fit like Chris Farley in David Spade's coat. It became necessary to un-fat myself as quickly as possible, so I did all sorts of research on diets and exercise (turns out eating 6 bagels a day isn't very "healthy"), got a gym membership, and started a regular routine of machine-weight circuit training and running on the treadmill. I managed to clean up the diet by cutting out refined sugar and carbs, and started eating eggs, chicken, and actual vegetables again. I did this for about three months before I started to get bored, and gradually worked up the nerve to check out the weight room downstairs. The weight room is fucking scary if you are a total noob and have no fucking clue what to do in there. A bunch of puffed-up tanktop bro's stalking around with inflated lat syndrome is intimidating, but not so much because you think they are going to beat you up or whatever. It's actually just because they are the only people IN the weight room who could potentially laugh at you when you strangle yourself with the bar while benching. It's humiliating enough being overweight and uncomfortable in your own skin WITHOUT making a total fucking jackass of yourself in front of people who know what they are doing.

Fortunately, the bulky bros slamming reps in the weight room were actually some of the nicest people I've interacted with in any public fitness facility, and they went out of their way to be helpful to me and all the other nervous dorks who didn't know how to work the Smith Machine. This one huge dude (who I was afraid of the most) actually gave me some great unsolicited pointers, and got comfortable enough that we'd spot each other and high five every now and again. I almost wanted to buy a pair of Zubas and a muscle-t, but I didn't want them to think I was being ironic. It's also worth pointing out that although I had slimmed down considerably via diet and cardio, the most drastic changes to my physique took place after I started lifting weights. I started seeing actual definition in my limbs. Upper abs became visible. Size medium shirts became a little too big. The more progress I saw, the longer, heavier and more taxing my workouts became. In six months, I had dropped from 225 lbs down to below 165, and whittled my bodyfat down to about 6.5-7%. Obviously a pretty big accomplishment for me, and something I believe I was only able to do once I actually started to enjoy the process of of it all. An experiment in discipline, of sorts - how lean can I get? How much farther could I run? How much more can I lift? How many more new holes can I put in this belt? And all that other fucking cliche 'Thrill-of-Victory' and 'Agony-of-Defeat'-type shit.

Fuck it, here's the before n' afters (about 6 months):


*No photoshop, fat burners, diuretics, or human growth hormone were used in the making of those abs. And no, I won't blow them up bigger so you can talk shit about my stupid tattoos.

Since then, I wandered in and out of periods of high physical output (running a few 5 & 10K's and a marathon) and excessive laziness (spending a winter doing nothing but eating pizza and playing Skate 2), and I'd say I've gained and lost the same 25-30 lbs a handful of times since relocating to Portland 7 years ago. To be honest, I don't really mind hovering around the 175-190lb mark, it's only after I breach the 200 lb barrier that I start to feel pretty uncomfortable. Once I reach that point, it's like I can't get out of my own way - too fat to skateboard, too fat to run, too fat to fit into a size medium shirt. I feel lumpy and oafish, I snore louder, and I find myself 'covering up' more in flannels and sweatshirts.

No one ever seems to notice, though, which makes me think that I have a skewed perception of my appearance. I call it 'Fat Kid Syndrome', which is basically a self-diagnosed body dysmorphic disorder that stems from years of slouching my shoulders forward to hide manboobs, wearing big shirts to hide the lovehandles, and overall just feeling incredibly insecure about my appearance. For instance, I can honestly say that the only time I've ever felt 'thin' was when I was down down to nearly 160 lbs and sustaining myself on a just a single grilled chicken breast, a cup of brown rice and some broccoli florets a day (aka "an impossible diet to maintain for any length of time"), while still spending upwards of three hours a day working out and running. It's too much, and the thrill of feeling 'in shape' wears off after you realize that anybody who really loves and cares about you doesn't give a single fucking shit about how you look - they just want you around every once in a while.

So I'm into moderation at the moment, which is very new to me. The current goal is to get some running and lifting in when I can, eat good most of the time, and have an ice cream or whatever when the mood strikes me. Maybe I'll feel like hopping back onto a strict diet and exercise plan in the next few weeks/days/hours, but for now, it feels good to function like a normal human being that doesn't have to exist on one end of the spectrum or the other.

*Coming next week: JGD gets back to the gym, discusses basic nutrition, and regrets putting shirtless pictures of himself up for public scrutiny.