Determined To Succeed

Today is Sunday, May 9, 2010. It’s Mother’s Day and, as expected, I feel the emptiness and pain from missing my mom inside my gut, like the sickly dull pain aftershock of being kicked in the stomach. And while the pain has dulled since her passing on June 9, 2009 it has by no means, and will never, completely go away. And, quite frankly, I don’t want it to.

There are so many memories of my mother, JoAnn Larson, that I want to share with you guys but I feel weird being so morose and somber on a day when others are out and about celebrating their moms or celebrating being moms (like my best friend, Mike’s, wife Ewa who recently gave birth to their beautiful son, Thomas Michael). Happy Mother’s Day, guys.

So today should be filled with happy memories, or at least memories that make us laugh a little. It should celebrate life as my mom was so full of life. She was goofy, warm, personable (she never met a stranger – ever) and disarmed you instantly. And even when I thought she didn’t understand something she came out with such insight, knowledge and advice I was amazed – no, humbled – by her for she was also very, very wise.

When I was 16 years old I attended Kenwood Academy High School on Chicago’s South Side neighborhood of Hyde Park (go Broncos). My sophomore year was an unusual one because I, as we all are when we’re 16, felt a bit adrift and therefore floated between different circles of friends that year. On one particular Friday I was invited to a party thrown by the “cool” kids. Yes, me, Bill Ivory Larson, partying with the cool kids. I couldn’t believe it. Me, at a party with liquor, music and girls. A real party. I was so excited.

Now, before I continue I will go all tangential and admit I had a fake I.D. yes, yours truly had a fake I.D. that made me 22-years-old (I thought being slightly older than the bare-minimum 21 would be less conspicuous). I got it after seeing the fake I.D. of a school mate of mine, who told me exactly where to get this masterpiece of subterfuge, this ticket to pre-mature adult hood (O.K. basically to drinking). It cost all of $8 and about two hours of my time one day after school. But I was in, baby, or so I thought. This comes into play a bit later…

Back to the story. So Friday night rolled around and my mom, who was awesomely cool, let me go to this party because I was a fairly responsible kid. Admittedly it is different for boys than girls and yes, it was a different, seemingly less dangerous time where kids could run around a bit more in an age of no cell phones, etc. No matter what, though, she trusted me to be good and not get into any trouble, at least any of the “call the police” variety.

The party was jumpin’. The House Music (slightly different than the House Music played in clubs today) was being spun by my friend, Dave, whose house we were using. His trusting but gullible parents let him “have a few friends over,” although that quickly turned into 20 or so people, all of whom were underage, and all of whom were drinking heavily…including yours truly.

As the night wore on we ran out of booze. So we all looked at each other to see who had the best shot of “scoring,” and that turned out to be me. I was pumped. Not only was I with the cool kids but I was now looked at as the savior of the party. The guy with the plan and the I.D. So a couple of people drove me to the liquor store (not the one my mom and I went to all the time for candy bars and Pepsi, but a different one) and I could feel my heart beat in my chest. “What if I get caught? Oh my God!” I was so scared but I screwed up my courage and walked into the liquor store on 51^st Street to peruse the aisles for enough hooch to keep us going all night.

I got a fifth of Old Granddad (yes, that nasty-ass Old Granddad), Jack Daniels and a few other things, including another 24-case of beer (as long as it wasn’t Coors – a house rule of Dave’s), and walked up to the counter. I felt sure the woman at the register was going to ask for my I.D., see right through it and call the long arm of the law. But she didn’t. I couldn’t believe it! She just rang me up. And even though I fully admit to looking much older than I was I was pissed because I DIDN’T get to use my shiny new fake I.D. But I don’t know what got me madder – not using the thing or being served alcohol and being a minor (something that still sort of troubles me today). Anywho, I got back to the party and drinking resumed and it carried on all night. At about 2:00 a.m. at least I think it was (I was so freaking drunk I couldn’t tell a two from a cat) I called my mom to say I was spending the night at Dave’s place. My mom was cool and thanked me for calling (I was always told to at least just check in and I did – her rules). And I crashed out by like 3:00 a.m. or so.

Saturday morning rolled around and I felt like shit. Real shit. My head was pounding so hard and I felt so sick to my stomach I wished I could have thrown up and died just to feel better. Yes, it was my first hangover and it was a doozey. Worse yet, I remembered I had to be at work in the children’s shoe store (my first job) by 9:00 a.m. that morning. There was no freaking way, I thought. As I bade my sleepy and still-drunken friends adieu I stumbled out of his place into the brisk morning air.

All the way home I was trying to puke. It would have made me feel better, as would a bullet to the head or being struck by lightning would have. I felt awful and I had no one to blame but myself. When I got home I told my mom I felt terrible (“sick” I actually think I said) and that I couldn’t go to work that day. But being the wise and wonderful mom she was she said “no, son. You are going to work today.”

And while my mom was cool, I knew she meant every word of it.

Needless to say I was a tad late getting there, which was sad given I literally lived around the corner from my job and began my day. I arrived at 10:00 a.m. and didn’t make it to noon. I was so hungover and I’m sure reeked of booze. I begged the forgiveness of my boss and went home to sleep it off.

Somehow my mom knew I wasn’t going to make it all day at work. When I got home she let me sleep, and sleep I did. I slept until like 5 or 6 that afternoon. When I woke up she looked at me not with anger but with a smile and said “betcha won’t do that again, will ya?” I smiled right back knowing instantly how much she knew I was messed up and in need of a lesson. I told her all about the party and she was so cool about it all. She looked at me after a while and asked me one simple question: “you know that’s why I made you go to work, right?” I nodded my head and laughed, and so did she. She also confessed to having a bit of a laugh at my expense over the whole thing wondering how long I was going to last at work (which, again, was not very long).

I never forgot that lesson. It was so important and special and cool and everything I needed at that time. It was a life lesson taught to me by a woman who was wise enough to know it was the only way I was going to learn the consequences of my actions, that I still had responsibilities to handle no matter how drunk I got. She taught me that people depended on me and I let them down because I was stupid. Oh, and let’s not forget she taught me I should never get that wasted the night before I have something to do the next day, a lesson I broke only one other time in my life and I was well into my 30s when I did. I’ll tell you about that sometime over a, er, drink.

When I look back at that story I smile because my mom knew going to work was all the punishment I needed to learn that life lesson. And she was right. It wasn’t the first nor the last time her pearls of wisdom were laid on me to teach me what I needed to know when I needed to know it. She was excellent that way. Excellent.

So for all you folks out there who still have your moms with you never take your mom’s words for granted. They and the lessons they teach us won’t be around forever and you’ll miss them deeply and terribly when they’re gone. And to all you moms out there, thank you. Thank you for teaching us kids what we need to know when we need to know it. It may not be what we want to know but it sure as hell is what we need to know.

On this Mother’s Day I will raise a glass (of something non-alcoholic) to my mom, JoAnn. I miss her voice, I miss her laugh, I miss her smile and I miss her words of wisdom. And even though I can’t pick up the phone and say “Happy Mother’s Day, Mama,” I hope she knows how much I love her and miss her and how much she’ll always be in my heart and always be my Mama.

While I wouldn’t say I fell completely off the bandwagon yesterday I must say I wasn’t the best I could be either.

Yesterday I attended One Day University, a one day series of lectures done by great guest speakers (except for the last guy who was awful) in New York City. I attended because I thought it would be great way to expand knowledge, network a bit and get some wonderful information for the website and my column. And I was right.

But it also led me down a strange food path yesterday and something of a food hangover today.

For starters, when I met people there we all started with breakfast which is weakness number one. Especially when it’s a delicious food buffet filled with french toast, eggs and bacon. I threw in a view grilled veggies (two tomato slices and a few asparagus pieces) to add some “health” to the meal. The positives in this were 1) I didn’t help myself to seconds at the all-you-can-eat buffet which is huge for me (no pun intended) and 2) I didn’t fill my plate up greatly and like I used to.

The days programming went on and it then came time for lunch, for which hundreds (at least) of people all used the same forty minutes (JUST FORTY MINUTES) to cram down lunch and get back to “class.”So sitting at the lunch table we all tried to be healthy and order lighter things. However when we asked the waiter what would be the quickest he said the burgers as the burger cook was moving fast. As there were only 20 minutes left in “lunch” we took him up on it. Grrrrr. Not only did I eat fries and a burger (which I have to say was decent) but I only had two bites of it before rushing back to class which I was almost late for.

It really did feel like college again. On the floor of the next class I finished my burger, wolfing it down in the most collegiate (unhealthy) way.

Dinner was amazing. We all ate at an Italian place in Greenwich Village and it was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time. It started with cheesy artichoke appetizers, fried cheese balls, meatballs (the best appetizer of the bunch) and roasted cauliflower. Yum. Then I had a sampling fresh ravioli pasta stuffed with both butternut squash and bolognese “gravy.” Out of this world (which will be one of my next “Worth The Splurge” articles).  For dessert (or desert as it was printed on the receipt after) we all split a creme brûlée made with figs and a ricotta cheesecake. Decadent, amazing and worth every calorie.

As I was driving back yesterday I got myself a Coke. To fight off a case of food coma sleepy and  because I was so full I needed to settle my stomach. It was so fun I also had strange dreams best left to someone else’s dream analysis blog

Was I happy when I got on my scale today? Hell no. I gained back two pounds so I am back up to 239.5.  But I will make up for it today with better diet and exercise. You betcha. I will let you guys know what I eat today in tomorrow’s blog.

And even though I ate too much I knew it was too much and that’s the point. KNOWING it’s too much. KNOWING I need to get back to a better, healthier way of eating AND exercise. KNOWING to get back to a routine. That is an awesome feeling. This weight loss journey has changed my life and totally for the better as I now know what to do and when and I carry that with me for the rest of my life.

Do any of you guys remember Steve Martin’s “The Jerk?” In the movie his character gets so excited at the prospect of the new phone book arriving he screams “The new phone book is here! The new phone book is here!” Yesterday, I received two extremely important boxes from Fedex. They were my t-shirts. I ordered them a couple of weeks ago for my website and they came. My friends. My new phone book is here. Or should I say part of my dream made real.

It’s easy to say “OK, now what?” But just opening up the boxes and looking at shirts that I ordered with this website’s address and logo on them made me take a step back and say “I am doing it. I have lost weight and kept it off. I am living my dream of writing about it and helping people to do it themselves.”

That is a wonderful feeling.

Yesterday’s blog was about getting back up despite a stumble and continuing on this weight loss journey. I did it after I gorged myself on Chinese food the other night (I still can’t believe myself – ick. What a food hangover). But today, as I head into this weekend facing my 39^th birthday tomorrow (the first without my mom) I am fortified in knowing I am living out my dream.

The Battle of The Final Three goes as well as expected. I’m still trying to re-lose the final remaining grief weight from losing my mom and there are many temptations (like cookies or the pizza and wings at the event I attended last night) and ice-cold Coca-Colas in my path. Sigh. Given the stresses in life they do feel good. I am human, and like someone wise once said that the highest peaks of success always go through the lowest valleys of failure. So I know I will win this Battle of the Final Three. Just that it’s taking longer than I thought.

But that’s OK. I still got up this morning, put on one of my own t-shirts and worked out. That feeling alone was amazing. To know that everything that has happened over this past three-and-a-half years has brought me to a point where my weight and health are more under control than they ever have been. That I can help others achieve their own success but simply letting them know I am human, too, and that we will get there together. That one day, all of our dreams will be made real.

And for now, as I proudly wear my t-shirt I know that I’ve made part of my dreams, my goals, very real. Not just because of a shirt. But because of the determination to succeed, because of the drive and because of the fact we are all worth the time, effort, blood, sweat and tears of losing weight. We are so worth all of that because if you have a dream you should grab onto it with both hands and hold on tight…

…no matter what kind of shirt you’re wearing while doing it.

My friends, yesterday was a rough day. It was the six-month anniversary of my mother’s passing and in between bouts of crying and working I thought about food. I am weak when it comes to food. I don’t know what it is about food but I am. It soothes me. It is there (actually it’s always there). It warms me and fills me. The thing I always have to remind myself of is that feeling it always leaves when the eating is over. Like yesterday when I woke up with that food hangover. The party’s over. Reality sets in. It is like alcoholism.

On days like yesterday I sit at my desk, or lie awake in bed, and find myself this/close to putting food into my mouth. And there is never any better reason other than it’s there. Food is there. I don’t even know what to eat. Just something that sounds palatable would be good enough. But at those times I have to remember the more I do that the more I do a disservice to myself and those that support me in this weight loss journey.

And because I like to look for encouragement (who doesn’t) I wanted to “pay it forward” and offer you, my friends, some words of encouragement when you feel as weak as I know I do and food comes a callin’. And these are not my words. No. They are words from famous people that I hope help you to see that when we feel weak, even when we fail, have a setback, whatever, people understand and people are there. Remember, failures are never permanent unless we let them be permanent. And we will always experience setbacks and failures on our way to achieving our ultimate success.

We really are all in this together. You are human, and so am I.

“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.” – Truman Capote

“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” – Thomas Alva Edison

“Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.” – Anais Nin

I feel that the most important requirement in success is learning to overcome failure. You must learn to tolerate it, but never accept it. —Reggie Jackson

Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.—Langston Hughes

“Listen to the mustn’ts, child. Listen to the don’ts. Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me… Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” – Shel Silverstein

“Courage allows the successful woman to fail and learn powerful lessons from the failure so that in the end, she didn’t fail at all.” – Maya Angelou

“I can accept failure, but I can’t accept not trying.” – Michael Jordan

“Notice the difference between what happens when a man says to himself, ‘I have failed three times’ and what happens when he says, I’m a failure.” – S. I. Hayakawa

“Thoughts are things; they have tremendous power. Thoughts of doubt and fear are pathways to failure. When you conquer negative attitudes of doubt and fear you conquer failure. Thoughts crystallize into habit and habit solidifies into circumstances.” – Bryan Adams

“If you have made mistakes, there is always another chance for you. You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.” – Mary Pickford

Hello my friends. I promised you that I would report all, good and bad, on my weight loss journey. Well, here is the truth. I have slipped. I have slipped in what I ate last night.And it is no one’s fault but my own.

Last night I ate a HUGE order of egg foo young and it was wrong. So wrong. And you are probably saying to yourself “so what.” Let me tell you that I feel like a slug today because of it.

Have you ever eaten so much that you feel like you have a hangover. You feel lethargic and gross, and heavier – like it’s a struggle just to move. Well, that’s what that egg foo young did to me. I feel that brown gravy goo running through my veins like a thickened blood. I have always told you that I eat what I want on this weight loss journey, but last night I ate WAAAAAAAY too much of it.

What I should have done is eaten half of it, and put the other half in the fridge for today’s lunch or din din. But it is deeper than that. I ordered Chinese because I couldn’t think of something better. I wasn’t even really hungry. It was one of those auto-pilot times when programming took over common sense and I went to one of my kryptonites. I could have even gone to the gym to work out to build up more of an appetite. ARGH! I am so mad at myself.

What the hell was I thinking?

If I wasn’t really hungry I should have just gotten up and made soup, or a Lean Cuisine, or gotten myself a piece of fruit instead of blowing God knows how many calories on two egg patties that look more like cow patties covered in a gravy that congeals when left in the fridge.

Eeeew!

So what did this slug do today? Totally got my butt out of bed and worked out. I did what came to six miles on my elliptical (at least my machine says it’s six miles), lifted weights and then hit the steam room (always a relaxing way to end a workout). THAT made me feel better. Those approximately 600 calories I burned this morning (probably half of what I consumed) made me feel better because there is no excuse for the sheer volume of what I ate.

I simply must lose this last three or so pounds. As Val Kilmer said in Real Genius “It is a moral imperative.” So just know I’m with you guys when we stumble, too. I so am. And would you even believe I ate this monstrosity watching “THE BIGGEST LOSER?”

But I did get something very cool today. I got an e-mail from a wonderful guy named Jeff who’s following my blog to help motivate himself to lose that stubborn 10-15 lbs. Dude, you totally will lose that weight, my friend. You will. And so will I. We all will.

So thank you, Jeff, for helping me remember I need to get back up when I stumble. It’s OK. That I just need to keep walking hard to stay true to the journey for us all. And thank you to all the people in my life who also continue to support me, wish me well and say to me “you need to exercise more,” “you’re doing great” and “I am so proud of you” when I need to hear it.

I absolutely assure you, I will not be a slug today!