Fifty-Fifty

Somewhere between shooting for the stars and sitting on the couch, a line becomes blurred. Sure, we can dream the impossible dream. It’s been deemed impossible; we have nothing to lose. If we fail, eh, it was expected. If we succeed, we’re heroes. We see the unbeatable foe and the unreachable star and think, Heck! Why not give it a shot?

But what about those dreams that are fifty–fifty? Those goals that— if we pursue them for all we’re worth—are quite possibly attainable? Those are the dreams that scare us. They scare us because they hold in their hands two options: failure and success. Each is of equal weight. Their penetrating eyes bore into our character and taunt us with superiority and skepticism. “There’s a darn good chance you can do this,” they say. “Then again, there’s a darn good chance you can’t. Are you willing to take a chance? Do you have what it takes?” It is not a question. It is a dare.

Marxkors, Amy L. The Lola Papers: Marathons, Misadventures, and How I Became a Serious Runner. Halcottsville, NY: Breakaway, 2012.

Ms. Marxkors presents this wisdom in the context of running, of the challenges it brings.  It is also clearly applicable to all the dreams we humans have in all aspects of our lives. It encapsulates my feeling and fears of this weight loss and lifestyle journey. Losing this weight and gaining my health is firmly a fifty-fifty dream.  And I have spent too many years being fearful of this dream.

And I continue to be.  

Will I take up this dare?  The obvious answer is hell yeah!  ...but I pause to consider the last 4 years.  The last 40 years. This is something I cannot change quickly.  Indeed, I have been inching towards this realization so profoundly illuminated by this author for many years. I know I have a very long way to go before I am no longer scared.

The answer is, simply, I don't know.

It is easier to accept failure.  It is the safe answer.  It is in many ways the comforting answer.

I have been on this journey for 4 fucking years, and I am still 280 pounds, I am still one glucose tolerance test away from diabetes, and I still have high blood pressure. I am still an angry and hurt child inside.  And every evening and every morning when I look into the mirror and say to myself 'you have kind eyes,' I know that behind those kind eyes is a man who deep down does not like himself and does not trust himself.


I am tired.

I am weary.

But I am still fighting.

I have always said that in order to fix my outside, I must fix the inside first.  I tell my self how wonderful it has been on this journey of self discovery.  Yet, I wonder how much I have gained in healing and how much I've deluded myself these last 4 years.

Yes, I have learned a lot...but do I believe? 

That's a good question.