Well. There I am. Taking a topless bathroom selfie for all to behold the glory of my love handles. World, I apologize. And more so because this is an improvement.
In January I went to a doctor because I was having some really sharp pains around my prostate. Probably chronic nonbacterial prostatitis (something I have, complete with flair ups), but it was a unique in that usually that pain is a heavy pulsing/throbbing type agony and shifts throughout everything unmentionable in that region. So my doctor put me on an antibiotic, just in case it was a bacterial infection.
It may or may not have been. But the antibiotics caused another. C Diff. Which if you don't know anything about it, it's a highly resistant asshole of a bacteria that emits toxic gases in your intestines. And about ten percent of people just have it. Not a lot of it. Nothing to get excited about. But it can't be killed by most antibiotics so when you're on antibiotics and killing off every other bit of flora in your gut, it suddenly has all the room in the world to populate.
So when your entire GI track is full of C diff, it's a problem. Non-stop watery diarrhea while feeling like your entire body is going to explode. And the only reason you don't explode is because you're constantly shitting yourself raw along with farting and belching.
I looked inflated. Puffy and massive. And it didn't help that I weighed in at 206 lbs, even without all the toxic fumes puffing me up.
So I spent some time at the hospital. I spent some time being misdiagnosed and given drugs to stop the diarrhea, which apparently prevented me from flushing out bunches of the C Diff. So then I was admitted into the hospital and put on much stronger antibiotics to kill the stuff once and for all.
The thing is, it didn't kill it. I was having serious digestive problems for another month and the C Diff came back on Easter. So I was on another round of ultra powerful antibiotics. Tons of digestive issues, yada yada.
The point is, people have started telling me how thin I look, and what's my secret? Well, for having lost twenty five pounds, my secret is having shat myself stupid for three months and keeping to a diet of basically toast and applesauce because everything else is agonizing.
Thankfully I discovered I can juice my vegetables. And sunflower seeds seem to be pretty easy on my system.
Anyway, now that I'm used to this diet and am actually eating pretty well because of it, I'm looking in the mirror and thinking these are changes I can continue with. I can continue eating better. I can be healthier.
I also think about murdering anybody who has a slice of pizza or can of Coke in front of me, but that's beside the point.
So my body seems to be plateauing right around 180 lbs. At one of my jobs I'm on my feet all day, but it clearly isn't enough to keep my body weight going down. And I'd like to get myself down to around 150 lbs. That feels like a reasonable goal. It feels like I got halfway there in a completely horrible, awful wrong way. So the rest I'm going to have to do the right way. So on top of being on my feet at work, I need to start exercising. I need to tone and work out. I want to look good.
Okay, okay. More specifically, when I wear my Batman symbol t-shirt, I want people on the street to think, "You know... he might just be the Batman... No. No. He couldn't be... But maybe..."
So to get myself off my feet and attempt to realize my highly unrealistic goal of being Batman, I decided to start running. And then after another couple of days, I found the energy to dig my old running shoes out of the closet and dig within the deep recesses of clothes I'll never wear again and probably should've donated forever ago to find some of my old work out clothes. And amazingly, I discovered that having lost what weight I did meant I fit into some of them.
So I went for a jog. Not that far. Nothing to be proud of. I made it about a block and a half before I was out of breath. So roughly a third of a mile. But instead of turning around, I picked a direction and kept walking. And as soon as I caught my breath, I started jogging again. And again. So in the end I made it about a mile and half, jogging/mostly walking. Again, not that far. Nothing at all to be proud of. But I want to lose this weight. I want to be in better health. And I most definitely don't want to look like that above picture when I know I can be better to myself if I just give the effort.
Anyway, I got home from my jog. I checked my phone for all the calls and text messages I hadn't missed. And I went upstairs to shower. So I got in the bathroom, looked myself over in the mirror, and then noticed the sweat stain on my shirt. Kind of a V shape, with wings.
... Wait a minute?! NIGHTWING?
Well... It's a step in the right direction. I guess.