Fit2Fat2Fit (16 page)

The yin and the yang you need are usually already right there in your life, champing at the bit to help. I encourage you to look around and share your goals with people you know. You might be surprised at how easily a team forms. However, the support team is only half the equation. The other half may be most important (and courageous of all). And it comes from you.

There were certain subjects in school that were clearly not my strengths. While I seemed to excel at gym, trudging into social studies wasn't the favorite part of my day. That's not to say I was the stereotypical meathead football player. I was just a bit more selective in the classes and subjects that held my attention.

Attention wasn't a problem in history classes; I enjoyed them and was fascinated by stories in which the fates of many were decided by the words and actions of a few. Like everyone else, I was taught about some of the most impactful individuals in history—world leaders, inventors, military generals, and presidents. While he was before my time, I was fascinated by the words and actions of one such man—John F. Kennedy.

Kennedy was a unique individual in that he could eloquently move a nation with words of encouragement, driving individuals into action through a single speech. He is rightfully famous for the “Ask not what your country can do for you” line in his inauguration speech in 1961.

But Kennedy gave another speech to a joint session of Congress in May 1961 that would prove the power of publicly declaring a goal and commitment, no matter how far-fetched or impossible it seemed.

When Kennedy spoke to Congress on that occasion, the subject of his speech (space exploration) was an audacious idea. While the United States was deep in an arms race with the Soviet Union, the idea of exploring the reaches of space seemed far-fetched and a bit crazy.

President Kennedy could have stood in front of the room and asked for minor advances in the space program. He could have stated a long-term goal to reach space long after his presidency had ended. Instead, he took an altogether riskier and much-critiqued approach. He (literally) reached for the stars.

Kennedy challenged NASA and the United States to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade. For many, the idea was laughable and impossible. For Kennedy, it was a mandate.

Two and a half years later, John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Yet, shockingly, just over eight years later (and six months before the end of the decade), NASA's Apollo 11 mission would land the first humans on the moon.

Historians alike would rightfully credit the proper funding, political support, and expertise of NASA for accomplishing such an impossible feat in such an impossible amount of time. But the true key to making this happen was the fact that Kennedy made a public declaration, in effect challenging himself and those around him to find a way to make it happen, rather than focus on why it couldn't be done.

The point of the story is that a public declaration is a vital (and perhaps the most important) part of attaining our goals, regardless of the scope. That applies to us as individuals, too.

Every single day, millions of Americans want to change their lifestyle. They want to be healthier, find fitness, and make an impact on their medical well-being. But too often they do so alone, and in silence. They take the approach that it's better to keep their goal quiet until they have succeeded. The reality, though, is that we keep our goals and commitments to ourselves for two reasons: fear of critique and fear of accountability.

It's easy to feel like we live in a cruel world—one that may be more interested in knocking us down to size than in lifting us up. Therefore, the thought of publicly declaring fitness and health goals is intimidating. We fear that such a declaration will invite criticism, disbelief, and discouragement.

In addition, publicly sharing goals and commitment inspires another fear—that of accountability. When we're at home alone and fall off the nutritional wagon or skip a workout, we're the only ones who know it. It's our little secret. But make your goals known, and you're suddenly surrounded by people who will notice your poor choices or lack of effort.

By publicly declaring your journey, you essentially close off the escape route. You're no longer the only one who will know if you fail. And while disappointing ourselves can take a toll, disappointing others is much more difficult. We suddenly become accountable for our actions.

Trust me, you'll be surprised at how quickly the excuses go away once you've stated your intentions. You're now accountable, and you know it.

No matter how many meal plans, exercises, and recipes are provided, the spark to change has to come from within the individual. There comes a time, perhaps after years of dithering, when you make the decision that you're ready for change and want to take the necessary steps to turn things around.

That's the time to publicly declare your intentions. Such a declaration is the first step toward making a permanent and long-lasting commitment to health. We need as many people as possible to hold us accountable to the life change we so clearly desire for ourselves. We need to ask for those aforementioned two things that we won't consistently be able to provide ourselves throughout the journey: honesty and belief.

That's not to say that every single person wanting to make a health change needs to start a blog or write a letter to Oprah. For some, a public declaration may be made only to a spouse, a friend, or a coworker. But the words, the desires, and the overall goals need to be shared and spoken. Only then can true accomplishment be achieved.

Part of the reason for a declaration's importance is what it signifies: such a bold, public commitment can be made only by an individual convinced that the end result is a given—it's not a question of
if
it can be accomplished, but merely a question of
how
and
by when
. If your goals and desires for a better you are kept to yourself, you'll live in a world of “I can't do this.” The moment you make those goals known, you force yourself to live in a world of “How can I do this?” And you find a way.

Moreover, you're no longer alone. The moment you share your aspirations for your own health and fitness, you invite your support group to start building around you. The team and the declaration go hand in hand. You can't have one without the other. And both will propel you on your journey to health.

My public declaration was a little different than most, given my goals and journey. It went out quietly enough, but soon I got more feedback than I could have ever expected. Fortunately, every negative tweet or e-mail came with several encouraging ones. My wife and a few friends made for an incredible support team from the get-go, but I soon realized that my support team extended beyond my immediate circle. The online community was there to encourage me and hold me accountable. I was motivated beyond anything I've ever experienced before.

In 1961, long before the world was ready for it, one man publicly declared that the United States would accomplish something never done before—land a human on the moon—and would do so in a timeframe so audacious that few believed it was possible.

Eight-plus years later, the goal was accomplished. Not just because people worked hard and NASA had enough resources to make it happen, but because one person found the bravery to make the declaration, inviting criticism and accountability—and, most importantly, issuing an unwavering mandate to ensure that the goal was accomplished.

True health doesn't take place in the kitchen or at the gym. The path to health comes from announcing your intentions out loud and working with those who are there to help you meet your goals and fulfill your mandate.

The next fad diet or fitness regime will be an extreme, for sure. They almost always are. Diet and weight-loss plans focus on what you're eating, with exercise viewed as a bonus to the food restrictions. Fitness plans, on the other hand, put their focus in the gym or workout room. Results come from “sweating it out,” and diet or nutritional guidelines are added on as friendly reminders to maximize results by eating the right things.

These approaches are not the answer. As I learned from this journey, balance is the key. Proper nutrition is as essential to significant weight loss as maintaining a consistent workout routine.

But we can't stop there. Achieving our goals requires a balanced approach that is sustainable because we have made a public declaration and have a support team to help us on our way.

The proper nutritional, fitness, and support guidelines positioned me as I worked my way back toward being fit. As the months went by, I continued to lose weight toward my goals.

Yet I was about to face an unspoken barrier to reaching fitness and health goals. It's the dreaded “final 15 pounds”—and to date, it's the true “wall” that everyone hits. It's also the one subject no one seems to want to confront.

Until now.

C
aught off guard by a brand-new emotion, I positioned my feet just in front of the scale. I was hesitant to step on. This wasn't a big deal, right? I had gone through this same routine every single Saturday morning for over 10 months. Why should today be any different?

As I looked down at the scale, the feeling of trepidation increased. Taking a deep breath, I stepped on, staring forward rather than down. The results of the last two weeks had not gone according to plan, and I was afraid that today's results would be no better.

Just two weeks earlier, I had stepped on the scale to see another few pounds lost from my once-overweight frame. I was close,
so
close, to reaching my goal. I knew that at this stage in the process every pound mattered. I was thrilled and proud that I had lost more weight in just a week.

I literally hopped off the scale that day, excited to do more. I devoured my spinach shake, prepared a nutritious lunch, and started reviewing my workout routine for the day. I was in the zone. I didn't have to think as much about eating nutritiously anymore. And my body had once again started to crave the workouts. At last, I was starting to feel like myself!

Later that day, I conquered the grocery store with ease. Sure, I had twinges of longing at the ice-cold display of Mountain Dew, but the bottled water I carried with me quickly quelled them. I stayed on the outside aisles of the store, loading my cart with vegetables, fruits, and lean meats.

It felt great to be over the hump. I didn't find myself as tempted to eat fast food (either that or my cravings had just become easier to control!), and my biweekly preparation of meals was now such a part of our family routine that my wife and I split duties, surprising each other with the recipe we'd chosen for the coming days.

And the workouts—oh, the workouts! Draining, exhausting, but addicting. I once again found myself actively looking forward to my trips to the gym. Most important, I was more comfortable in my own skin. I knew that I was far from done, but it was great to be feeling like myself again.

One week later, I jumped onto the scale eagerly. I was certain that more pounds had been shed, and I would be one step closer to my prejourney weight.

My first thought as the number registered: the scale had to be running out of juice. It was impossible that I had lost so little. I had such higher expectations for my progress. I stepped off, readjusted my weight (as if this would help), and tried again. Not surprisingly, the number on the scale hadn't changed. I stepped off yet again, picked up the scale, and shook it. Maybe it wasn't properly calibrated.

This lasted for three more minutes—up, off, shake—until I finally realized that there would be no difference in my weight no matter how many times I got on and off the scale. I exhaled, considered the big picture, and found renewed determination to work harder and follow my workout routines with even greater care.

That evening, Lynn asked if I'd be interested in going out to dinner, given that it had been so long since we'd had a real date. I declined, explaining that I didn't want any extra calories and needed to make sure I ate as nutritiously as possible. (For the record, I did not win Husband of the Week.)

I put in an extra-long workout the next day and, while shopping, traversed the grocery store with such gusto that I'm sure store employees and shoppers were slightly alarmed. I became militant about what went into my cart, sensing that a few more fruits and vegetables would do the trick.

I personally prepared all of the meals for the week, playing it off to my wife that I wanted her to have a break. In truth, I had to make sure the meals were perfectly prepared. And I drank more water than usual each day, just to help things along.

A few exhausting and difficult days later, I found myself hesitant to get on the scale. What if I hadn't lost enough weight? What if the weeks of dropping multiple pounds were over? Even more concerning, what if my workout routines and nutritional guidelines weren't producing the results I had expected them to?

My final comforting thought was that I had followed all of my meal plans, hadn't allowed myself any splurges, and had completed my workouts with more ease than I had at any point in the last four months.

Okay, the moment of truth. I stepped up on the scale and glanced down. I blinked. If I thought last week was bad, I wasn't prepared for this week's scale surprise.