Fuck It, I’m Cool With Getting Fat

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A few weeks ago, I burned the shit out of myself. It sucked and was really scary, and I’ve told the story of how it happened more times than I can count. Did I learn my lesson? Well, no. There really wasn’t a lesson to be learned because at the end of the day, it wasn’t my fucking fault in the first place. That being said, The Accident (as I’ve been referring to it) triggered two significant changes in my lifestyle that I’m watching play out in real time.

The first is that I have not cooked a legitimate meal in two weeks. That’s right, I said what I said. For the last two weeks, I’ve either ordered food or gone out to dinner with coworkers or friends. The second was that after The Accident, I wasn’t really able to do any physical activity or go to a gym—both out of fear of infection and as advised by doctors. So if you think about it, I’ve kind of been living the dream.

However, an unsuspected (but should have been suspected) outcome of this sudden lifestyle change has recently come to light: y’all, I’m getting fat. Again.

I’ve gotten fat before, whether as a result of wintertime or just having Relationship Gut. Usually I look at it as a wake up call, a sign for me to change up my lifestyle because I felt unmotivated or wanted a change. This time feels different though. I think it’s because this time I don’t really give a shit.

Really and truly, I’ve reached the point of saying “Fuck it.” I’ve tried getting back into running with the half marathon. I’ve done two Whole 30s but those are just fads that never stick. I even tried getting back into cooking and ended up with second degree burns. So from here on out, I’m taking the “whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen” approach to my physique.

If you sit down and weigh your options out, this one should always rise to the top of your list. My whole mentality right now is about not trying to get skinny. Any time I do that, it ultimately leads to failure. I don’t like failing at things. Instead, I’m succeeding at eating things I want to eat and working out as hard as I want, whenever I want, which fits my schedule and personality much better if we’re being serious.

I doubt it’ll all happen at once. It’s not like I’m going to balloon up to 250+ by September. When it all boils down, though, I’m only 5’8”. Any additional poundage I pack on in my midsection is immediately noticeable, which would be a huge problem if it were, say, March. Guess what’s right around the corner, motherfuckers.

That’s right, y’all. Fall is going to be here before you know it, and I’ve been getting my body and wardrobe prepped and ready since June. I’m about to be looking fly as hell walking around like a short, pudgy, John Mayer-Father John Misty hybrid. Bulky clothes that hide my love handles and show off my dashing personality. From there, we just ride that out until November when winter rolls around and all the activities are indoors or require heavy coats.

I also think it’s important to note that I fully know how to get skinny. It’s not a secret. Eat healthy and work out and eventually it will happen. The key is to remember that it won’t happen all at once, so you have to stick with it and make it a part of your lifestyle and blah blah blah blah. I was an athlete for 10 years. 12 if you count 2013-2015 when I was doing Crossfit on a daily basis. You know what sucks about that life? Everything. Being obsessive about what you’re eating, how many calories you’re putting in and what kind of carbs you’re eating and tracking your progress…it’s too much for me.

I would much rather work out to be able to say I work out, eat a salad a few times per week so that I can say I ate a few salads this week, and then do whatever I want in between. It seems less time consuming. Plus, if you try something (like losing weight, for example), it opens you up to potential failures. So if I don’t try to get skinny, I won’t fail at it. Therefore, I won’t be upset. That’s just logic..

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Charlie

Using sarcasm as a defense mechanism since 1993. At any given moment I'm either tired, drunk, or stressed out. Get at me at charliepgp@gmail.com or whatever.

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