The successes...sorta./Wrestling

I mentioned in an earlier post this week that I’d successfully lost substantial amounts of weight at few different times in my life. As I begin to make strides toward a healthier lifestyle, I think it’s important to look back on those times for a moment so we can see what it was that worked and it why as well as what lead me back to the point I'm at now.

Senior Year of High School

I am, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst wrestler to ever come out of Hanover Area Jr. Sr. High. It was fall of my senior year. I’d stopped playing baseball, the only sport I ever showed any promise at, the year before. That meant that as far as extracurricular activities went, building my tolerance for booze was it. I remember being at a football game one Saturday afternoon and chatting with two friends of mine who were star wrestlers at my school. They were talking about the upcoming season and one mentioned that they were without a heavyweight for the year. One of them said, “You should go out, Mergs.”

I had always been told growing up that there were certain sports I should have exceled at simply based on the way I was built. Football was one, which I never played because the thought of two a day practices during the summer seem beyond awful. Wrestling was the other. The fact that guys who were already stars on the team were telling me I should come out made me think that maybe this was something I could do. That Monday afternoon I went and talked with the coach. Tuesday, I was a wrestler. I’ve heard someone refer to wrestlers as the Navy Seals of high school sports. I agree. I was grossly unprepared for what was about to happen. The practices were grueling. Not only that, but I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Everybody there was better than me by a mile. I got my ass kicked over and over and over.

I lost nearly every one of my matches. I was pinned in 13 seconds once. That’s some sad fast shit gang. I just didn’t have the passion for it the way the guys who exceled at it did. Plus, I was simply out matched by kids bigger and stronger than me who had been doing this their whole lives. The team and my friends were always very supportive, but that only went so far. I tried to quit about halfway through the season, but my coach wouldn’t let me. He said, “I don’t want to hear it. Go get dressed for practice.” Two weeks before the last match we were practicing with a team from another school. I was working with the heavyweight from the other school and at one point he went for a takedown that landed me on my elbow, which popped my shoulder out of it socket, and ended my wrestling career. To be honest though, looking back and knowing what I know now, I wish I’d started wrestling when I was ten years old. I wished I played football too. There’s something to be gained from team sports of that magnitude that will inform your life experiences for years to come. I wish I’d taken more advantage of them when they were available to me.

Even though I only won two out of twenty some matches that year, both wins were at a tournament mid-year, something else happened over the course of the season. I lost forty pounds. I also ate anything and everything. Two sandwiches at every lunch, an entire Papa John’s Pizza for dinner, didn’t matter. The weight still came off. Sure, I had youth on my side, but the reason for the loss was this. Intense, ever changing, full body workouts…that’s what wrestling is. My goal for the future is to look pull some of the exercises and routines I remember from practice, like stations or running the stairs, and integrate them into my workouts now. It’s too late for me to be a star wrestler; it’s not too late to train like one.

Sophomore Year of College

It was the end of summer. I was living at home heading for a second year at the Penn State Wilkes-Barre Campus. I was roughly the same size that I am right now. A new gym had opened not too far from my house owned by a gentleman named, Sam Hyder. Sam was a bit of a legend in my hometown. A martial arts master. He was a world champ. If my memory serves he’d beaten both Billy Blanks and Chuck Norris in tournaments in the past. When I met Sam he already ran an established school called Hyder’s American Karate. The fitness center/gym was his newest endeavor. Sam was in ridiculous shape, highly dangerous, well respected, and one of the nicest guys I’d ever met.

My friend Mark had joined the gym about a month before I did and told me how great it was. He said I should come down and meet Sam. One day after school I drove over to the gym and did just that. Sam greeted me with a smile and a handshake and asked me what I wanted to accomplish. The fee for the gym was $25.00 a month. I signed up that day and the next afternoon I met with Sam for a workout. He took me through and explained exactly what my routine should be. Then he told me that I could always come to him for advice and for new exercises. No personal trainer first session free, but then blah, blah, blah bullshit. His attitude was simply, “This is my gym. If you want to learn and get in shape, I’m here to help.” A rare and wonderful approach to owning a fitness center these days.

I began to follow Sam’s workouts and pushed myself beyond what was required. In addition to that, I cut my calories down to about 1000/day five days a week. I’d eat what I wanted to on the weekends. Yes, I know that was stupid. 1000 calories a day is barely enough for a tree year old, let alone a nineteen year old male. I saw results though, quickly. Too quickly. 5lbs the first week. 7lbs the second. The third week I got a little lazy and skipped a few days. When I finally went back for my next workout Sam stopped me on my way to the locker room. “Where you been?” “I took a couple days off,” I said. “C’mon, Mike. Can’t be pulling that shit if you want this to work.” I could see how serious he was, almost disappointed in me. And for the next year, I didn’t miss a workout. I wasn’t eating enough and felt week and sluggish, but kept on going. Come the following August, I’d lost 110lbs.

110lbs. That is the equivalent of losing a model, a fly weight boxer, or Justin Beiber from around your middle. It was a good feeling, but short lived. I went off to Bloomsburg University that fall. I gained back roughly half of what I’d lost that previous year by the time June rolled around. The gain back was due from a number of things. New schedule, different environment, Nap’s pizza. Honestly though, the gain back really happened for one all-inclusive reason. I’d lost the weight too fast, and in a dangerous way. You would think that after losing 100lbs I’d be cut up, ripped, shredded…nope. My fat disappeared, but so did whatever muscle I’d had. I was weak, saggy, and I was starving myself. I protein bar, a bowl of Special K, and a sandwich were the only foods I’d consume in a day. On top of that I’d spend one to two hours a day, six days a week, at the gym. Also, I was taking the now FDA banned Ephedrine throughout the entire process. How long could anyone have kept that up for before they crashed?

Any fitness and health expert out there will tell that the road from fast food and processed sweets to vegetables and a healthier life is one best walked little by little. Small changes and slow steady weight loss are the keys to maintaining your weight once your goal is reached. This time I’m not trying to concern myself with how many pounds I’ll lose this week, or even this month. Let’s just take it a meal at a time and see what happens.

My 29^th

Last winter, just after my 29^th B-day, I took a stab at new diet for the thousandth time in my life. I dropped 30lbs between January 1^st and April 1^st. I ate clean six days a week and exercised 4-5 days a week. One day a week thought, I indulged. Every Sunday I was off from work. I would wake up, get stoned, order food, smoke more weed, order more food, puff-puff, go to the bodega for more food. I lived for that day. I thought I was on to something with that plan. I was losing weight, but still able to have my fun and smoke it too. Here was the problem though. Once, just once, I allowed that one day to be two. Then three, then four, and then, “Aw fuck it, I’ll get back to the gym next week.” After a while, well, here we are again.

So, what’s to be learned from the past so that I can apply it to my future?

1.       If I’m going to work out, I’m gonna make it like a wrestling practice. Intense, ever changing, and challenging. I have no desire to spend an hour slugging along on an elliptical while I watch The Price is Right. Instead, let’s run the stairs and toss around some kettle balls. Let’s make the most of those few hours in the gym a week.

2.       Slow and steady wins the race. I’m not thinking how many pounds I’ll lose this week or even this month. I’m thinking about putting together my next healthy meal. I’m thinking about when exactly I can make my next workout happen. I’m thinking with filling my fridge and cupboards with nutritious food so when I’m hungry I’m surrounded with intelligent choices. If I can make these thoughts my reality from day to day, then hopefully everything else will fall into place.

3.       The line between indulging now and then and overdoing it is a thin one. I think life’s too short to say I’m never going to have mac and cheese, a hot dog, or anything wrapped in bacon ever again. Ya gotta space that shit out though. Be conscious of how often you’re eating it, savor it, and don’t overdo it.  

These are lessons I’ve learned from my past. If you have thoughts or tips you’d like to share dear reader friends, I’d love to hear them. Be well friends and enjoy your Monday.