Sunday, February 24, 2013
I woke up yesterday morning to a series of sad Facebook statuses. A guy who was currently a senior at my alma mater just died. No, we werenít friends, or even acquaintances for that matter. I donít even remember him around campus. But those facts are not important.
I looked at his Facebook page. Incomplete. His Twitter page. Part of the past. Plans, hopes, dreams. Over.
Then, I turned around on my bed. An unopened bag of pretzels and a box of Wheat Thins. What about my plans?
Twelve hours later. Iíve remained on that bed, with the exception of a quick shower and my back-and-forth trips to the kitchen. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sweet potato fries. That box of Wheat Thins are now done. The bag of pretzels have been open. What about my plans?
I woke up this morning, Sunday morning, and Iím still unsure. Another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I skipped an entire weekís worth of workouts. But thatís not the problem. Exercise is a part of who I am. Itís a non-negotiable part of my identity. I will be back. I always go back.
I realize now that I stopped losing weight when I stopped going to therapy. I took a day off work last Friday so I could find a therapist. Iím starting to binge eat like I did in college. Iím starting to feel extremely depressed again, and I fear another nervous breakdown. I need help. But even with my fairly good health insurance, it still will cost $50 a session. $200-250 a month. Not impossible to afford, but Iíd rather save that cash for vacations.
This time I will not use a therapist.
This guy from my college was hit by a car. Photos from the local news website show a broken glass on the passengerís side of the windshield. He died at the hospital. He died quickly. I looked at his Facebook page. I looked at his Twitter page. I looked at our mutual friendsí pages. I looked at his LinkedIn page. He had ambition, but more importantly, he was building his resume. Not a summer at home without an internship or a job. But now his plans, hopes, and dreams are over because of an accident.
On Monday, March 15, 2010, I weighed 210 pounds. As of Monday, February 11, 2013, I still weigh 151 pounds. Iíve been trying to lose the last 19-26 pounds for the last two years now. I am a planner by nature. My careerís in health. I know more than the average person about weight loss. My plans, hopes, and dreams are enough to help me reach this goal.
It shouldnít take a healthy 23 year old 2 years to lose 26 pounds. The workouts wonít help me lose weight. I will never lose the weight unless I stick to my calorie range. Weight loss is 80 percent nutrition and calories. No matter how many miles I run in Central Park or on an incline on the treadmill, no matter how many early morning plyometric workout classes I take. I will NEVER reach my goal weight. My weight will stay the same. And then, I will get frustrated with the lack of results from my exercise routine and skip the gym.
His plans, hopes, and dreams wonít happen because of what happened to him. My plans, hopes, and dreams wonít happen because of what I let happen.
He understood that he was the only person with the power to change his life. He fought and worked hard to make his plans, hopes, and dreams a reality. He doesnít have another chance.
Didnít he deserve one?
I understand that I am the only person with the power to change my life. I donít fight or work hard enough to make my plans, hopes, and dreams a reality. My chances are running out, but I donít know when.
Why do I deserve more chances than him?
Most of us wonder why life and death can be so unfair. Unfair to who?
Maybe one day we will use our personal power of change to make life and death a little more fair.
Rest in peace, Jason.