Game On

Oh, Hi there... Be with you in just one second...

Flay the flesh... flay the flesh... flay the flesh... Deep Breath... And Go....


Alright, where was I? Ah, Right...

So, yesterday on my facebook page, I made the following status update:

Jesus Contreras made a decision yesterday that's gonna affect the rest of his life. Putting this out there to hold myself to it. By 10-10-11, I WILL be at least 70lbs lighter. Blog with details tomorrow. Game on, Bitches. (Bitches being the lbs, I'm gonna lose.)

In this post, I'd like to give that statement some context.  Partially to explain what the hell something like that actually means, but mainly so that I can set a few things straight for myself.  If I am actually going to do what I said I was planning to do, then I need to understand why the hell I am doing this.  You know, if anything, so that I have a base to return to if I get lost along way.

(Tomorrow I will go into some detail about how I plan to lose the weight and how the blog is going to be involved.  For now though, I just want to explain how we got here.)

I'd been thinking about starting to work out again for a long, long time.  My previous attempt at weight loss was a few years back.  Membership at a Bally's, went like 5 days a week for a couple of months, got lazy, lost track, never made time for it again, wasted money.  If I would have stuck with that program, I know I could have gone far.  I lost 30 lbs. then.

So, I know how to work out, I can do it.  I HAVE done it.  Just not enough. I kept thinking about going back.  I made excuses to myself about life getting in the way, and then life actually did get in the way.  My mom got sick, that was my focus. She died, that became my focus -- the grief.

All I did was theatre and work two part time jobs.  Keeping myself busy, trying to hold it together.  To give myself some focus.  To just get by.  I was too busy trying to process what the fuck just happened to really worry about anything other than surviving.  I didn't do a very good job at times. I did an EXTREMELY HORRIBLE job at times.  But...I survived.

With the help of too many people to mention, I survived.

So, three weeks ago, I started working full time The Taco & Burrito House for my Uncle.  I knew that I could finally afford to get into a gym. (Now, that is not to say one NEEDS a gym.  But for the plan I have, I do.  Its the only way.  The Chicago Park District has Gyms.  You can get a membership for amazingly cheap.  Its not Bally's but they have equipment and thats what I care about.)

Working full time at the Burrito House, though, meant I had to quit Loose Leaf Lounge.  The money was just better, I needed to take the job.  I had to make the move.  So, there was this air of change...in the air. (I know, weird sentence, lets keep going.)

In retrospect, it was something that I should have done a while ago.  I didn't really understand how much I had associated with that place.  I had to physically move on, not be in the shop, not take that train, switch that routine up.

I found out about my Mom's cancer a block away from Loose Leaf.  Phil was the first person I KNEW that I told.  That was in the back room, in front of the fridge, tackled him with a hug so I wouldnt fall to the ground.  That was the place I knew I was telling a friend, that my mom was going to die.  I felt connected to it, like, I had to hold on, only I didn't know that. I didn't understand that until I left.

I didn't want to close that chapter.  I needed to, though.  To move on mentally, it was good to move on physically.

I got a fresh start.

A fresh start, a new routine, MONEY!!!  I saw being able to catch up on some bills, and having a set, full time schedule as liberating. (D'uh.)  I wasn't as stressed about where my loot was gonna come from. I eased up, I could breathe for a second.  Entertain new ideas, new possibilities.

Not just survive, but live.  Live, again.

Then yesterday, three things happened.

1. I went to the store to find pants in my size.  Depending on the maker, I wear between a 40 to 42.  (You read that right.)  I got two pants one in each size, tried both on and they didn't fit.  That's bullshit.  I was wearing a pair of 40's.  I have like 4 pairs of pants, they are all 40 to 42, so I know it was the make, but it shook me.  I will not buy a pair of pants that are 44.

Nope. Fuck. That.

2.  I saw a play, 1001.  Something about that show...  At its heart, to me, its a Love Story.  One that goes south.  I started to think about my relationships with women.  What parts I have played to make them go south. What parts I have played to kill them before they start.

I was already in a weird mood because of the pants, and the two issues started playing off each other in my head.  Maybe it was the way that I looked?  "Its about confidence! It doesn't matter what you look like!" you may be thinking.  Yes and No.


If you hate the way you look you don't have the self confidence to believe that it doesn't matter what you look like.

That is fair, and that is on me.  Completely and totally on me.  I control the way I look.

3.  I got to work, and said Hello to the three guys I work with.  The three guys that I work with are all originally from Mexico -- where it is still OK for people to tease overweight people.  If you are fat, you are fair game.  Here, in America, people still do it, but its considered rude, and usually only little kids get away with making a joke -- they do say the darnedest things.  These cats being from there though, I get teased and just roll with the it -- it is what is.

One of the guys likes to say hello to me, and my belly.  He high fives me, then he high fives my tummy, laughs as he walks away.  Its the way it is.  Its been like this, for me, around Mexican people my entire life really -- not my family as much anymore, mind you, but it happens.  It is what it is.

Or was anyway.  That shit stops now.

I walked into the kitchen, as usual.  And, as usual, the guy high five'd me, and then guy high five'd my stomach and now somewhere in the world there is a paralyzed camel being put down.

The second he did that,  the show, the pants, his pound to my pounds just bubbled over.

Nope. Fuck that.  I am done.

I will not deal with this anymore.  I have the power to change it.  I am going to.  The time for grieving is over.  It is time to live.  And if I am going to live, I am going to be healthy while I fucking do it.

I am done being sad.  I am done wallowing in the sorrow of losing my mother to brain cancer.  I will always miss her, and I will always hurt, but thats not gonna stop me anymore.

First thing is first, I need to get my health right.

This blog is gonna be part of how that happens.  I'll explain that next time.  For now, just remember.  

Jesus Contreras made a decision yesterday that's gonna affect the rest of his life. By 10-10-11, I WILL be at least 70lbs lighter. Game on, Bitches.