Determined To Succeed

OK, how sad is it that Gary Coleman has passed away at the age of 42? I have to admit I’m in a bit of shock. Not as much shock as when I heard Michael Jackson or Brittany Murphy died but a bit of shock, nonetheless. I remember growing up and tuning in to “Diff’rent Strokes” on whatever night of the week it was on. Me and my friends always, ALWAYS, used to imitate Coleman’s Arnold character saying “whatchoo talkin’ bout, Willis?” And it wasn’t just the comedic timing and incredible delivery of the line…it was those damn chubby cheeks, too.

I had chubby cheeks when I was a kid, too, but was neither as cute nor had a fan base that kept wanting me to repeat a line over and over again. I never had a catch phrase. I was just a fat kid, and my chubby cheeks were the result of me eating badly, eating often and not exercising. Hell, if anything my catch phrase was “you gonna eat that?”

OK, that made me chuckle just a bit.

I think the thing that strikes me most is the fact that Gary Coleman died at 42. I will turn 40 in December and think the best years of my life are ahead of me and here’s this cat who’s just died and he was only 2 years (two-and-a-half years) older than that. Wow. It blows me away. And why do I feel like the best years of my life are ahead of me? You guessed it. Because I lost weight, weight that was definitely holding me back from doing things. Weight that kept more of the “real” Bill from being seen. Weight that very well might have killed me at or around 40.

So today, I get up (late again, so sorry) to write before trying to start my Memorial Day weekend. There are things I need to do (well, try to do) and Coleman’s passing reminds us (OK, me) ever so gently to get out there, do these things and live life the best we can. As much as I sit and write about and discuss weight (yes, the seemingly ever-present “Battle of the Final Ten”) I know in my heart I’ve already gotten to that goal before and I will again. I beat this. I overcame the weight thing before and these last few pounds are just a revisit of endgame, nothing more. I will never go back to being 400 pounds. I have too much riding on the investment I’ve already made in myself and it has nothing to do with money or position or things. It has everything to do with just being able to wake up every day and have the ability to do these things. I want to skydive out of a plane (yes, a perfectly good plane), I want to climb a mountain, do a stunt for a movie, bungee off a bridge (yes, a perfectly good bridge), meet James Earl Jones and tell him I got into radio because of him. I also want to travel the world more, go scuba diving and so much more…all of which are now possible without weight in my way.

That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, Willis.

PS: I know my friends in the Philly area are not gomna like me too much for saying this but one of the things I want to see is every major Chicago team win a respective championship in my lifetime. I’ve seen the Monsters of the Midway, the Chicago Bears, win the Superbowl. I’ve seen the Chicago White Sox win the World Series. And no doubt everyone has seen the Bulls’ NBA trophies in the years of its dynasty led by Michael Jordan. And now, “Here Come The Hawks, ” The Chicago Blackhawks who play tonight against the Philadelphia Flyers in Game 1 of the Stanley Cup finals. I am thrilled. The team has not won the Cup since 1961, the longest current cup drought in the NHL. At 49 years, it is the second longest Stanley Cup drought in NHL history. So let’s go Hawks…

…now as long as I can keep my healthy lifestyle going long enough to see my beloved Chicago Cubs win that ever-elusive World Series…

Happy Sunday, my friends. As the sun shines it’s early morning light over southern New Jersey I am still feeling nostalgic. Yesterday I listened to and wrote about “Proud Mary,” but today my nostalgic brain thinks not about music but TV.  So talk a quick walk down Memory Lane with me before you start your day or as a nice break from it…

“Now the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you may not be right for some…”

Do you remember the “just say no” anti-drug campaign from the very early 80s? I was a kid when Nancy Reagan made her guest appearance on television’s number one show at the time, “Diff’rent Strokes,” to tell Arnold (”whatchu talkin’ ’bout, Willis”), Willis, Kimberly and kids all over the country to “just say no” to drugs. (Crap, now’s I’ve got that damn show theme running through my head…bah)

A weight loss journey is a constant thing. If you’re not on the road to losing (or re-losing as I am) you are on the weight maintenance road trying to keep those dreaded pounds from coming back (I’m kind of walking that path, too). And on this constant road I think about how many tempting food situations come up in the course of the day. When shopping at the mall I pass the food court, Godiva Chocolatier or Auntie Anne’s delicious (evil) pretzels.  When I see friends we sometimes go to a bar with not-so-healthy bar food or, like last night, stay at their house ordering really-not-so-healthy pizza or cheesesteaks, cheese fries or fried mushrooms. Damn! And even when I try to be good and go to the grocery store I pass aisle upon aisle, endcap upon endcap and impulse buy station after impulse buy station of tempting snacks (like Hostess Twinkies or cupcakes, Milky Way bars or – gulp – Coca Colas).

It’s enough to knock a food-a-holic like me around and throw me out of whack.  What do all of these situations have in common?  They are all situations that make me have to make smarter choices and “just say no.” Now, how many times during the course of the day do I “just say no?” I have no freaking clue but it’s a lot, I assure you. And it always seems worse on weekends. We’re always surrounded by food but it’s up to us to be strong and steel our resolve and “just say no,” at least in that particular instance, to the extra calories we don’t need.

Can you tell I’m kind of getting twitchy about snack foods? Earlier in the week I described my self-imposed moratorium from Coke as like, well, going through detox. Sometimes there’s such an overwhelming urge to have a snack I literally have to make myself walk away from the item in question to avoid getting and having it. Since I’ve been so nervous about weekends lately I’ve tried to steer clear of bad situations and meals like the ones I described above and “just say no.” (he says as he knocks on the wood top to his desk), mainly because I have lost another pound. Damn, these final fifteen are a bitch. They really are.

But am I perfect? Hell no. I sometimes do give in to a small dessert here or there, or a candy bar or doughnut with my coffee because, as I’ve said before, if I don’t I will be a miserable bastard not just in detox but more akin to a zombie searching for fresh brains to eat. These small tastes taken in moderation keep me sane and also continuously teach me that these things are treats not normal occurrences.

Like the theme song says, what choices might be right for you (or me) may not be right for others so I make my food choices and they are for me that day in that moment. Sometimes they are bad but most times they are good. I want to keep these hard-earned pounds off my body once-and-for-all and I always hope and pray I have way more many good food choices (like grilling foods, eating at home, walking away from the sweets and soft drinks, etc.) than bad ones. Because I like seeing a 238.1 on my scale instead of a 239. I hope you guys can, too. We are all struggling together. Believe me.

And I will apologize now if I’ve put the “Diff’rent Strokes” theme in your heads, too. Your 80s retro TV misery certainly has company. It ain’t leaving my mind any time soon, either…