I wanted to introduce Greg Larsen. He is a friend of mine from the gym and in business. Shockingly, Greg used to weigh 250+. You would never know it now as he has transformed into a Ironman. We will begin hearing from Greg on more of a regular basis. He has a lot of knowledge and writes about his experience with training in the swimming, biking, and running realm. He is a fun writer and has great content. Here is a story that I took from his blog.
Greg Larsen-
Greg Larsen-
The LONGEST Day of My Life
Today I had to climb a ladder and unclog a couple of drains. Everytime I climb a ladder I have a nice little laugh and think back to what I consider to be literally the “longest” day of my life. Thought I’d share it with you…enjoy! The doctors visit on the campus of Weber State University started this long day. I went in for a check-up and some help in knowing what I needed to do to lose weight. So of course he does what all doctors do and checks my vitals, but then wants ”the stats”.
“The stats” are those fun numbers that we all dread, but can’t help talking about, weight and height. I quickly rattled off both for him and he chuckled. “Thanks, but let’s just check.” I think the chuckle was for my weight. I probably said something like 190 or 200. Yes, I had no clue what I actually weighed at this point.
To the scale we go…you kow the accurate ones that don’t lie and you have to mess with the weights until things balance out. The one that takes forever to get right so you’re just staring at the weights praying they get pushed to the left, not the right. Ya, that scale!
First though he props up the pre-installed yard stick to get my height. “I’m just shy of 6’1″”, I say. Again, a chuckle. I’m not liking the chuckle! “Sorry Greg, you’re just over 5’11″”. “Huh? What? Wait…You’re wrong!” Step back and look and sure enough there it was, proof I had shrunk. I was now a midget! Seriously, my uncles and cousins are 6’4″ and taller, my Dad was 6’1″ & my mom is 5’10″. I am literally the runt of the litter! A midget! (no offense to those who are dwarfs or midgets)
Now, I’m just deflated! It really didn”t matter what my weight is, I was short! Probably hadn’t ever been 6′. I couldn”t even say “I’m 6′”, ’cause now I’m lying. Yes, I obsessed over this more than the weight that was being measured.
Because of my height concern I wasn’t paying attention to the scale. “You weigh 25…” I checked out at that point. I don’t even remember what the exact number was. It wasn’t even close to what I thought I was. I had just told I was short & now this! For a guy struggling with image and life this wasn’t helping.
We walked back to the room and he pulled out a BMI chart. I knew I was overweight, that’s why I was there. I was looking at the words on the chart, “normal”…not me, “overweight”…me, and “obese”…nope, just overweight.
As you do with everone who is lost he drew the line of where my height and weight matched then drew the line down to the word “OBESE”. I honestly didn’t know what to do with that description of me. Overweight I could’ve handled, but the word obese rocked me to the core.
The doctor showed me the magic numbers that brought me to overweight and then to normal. I had a long way to go. This is also when he prescribed the diet I talked about in “my story“. We reviewed things and what it meant for me if I didn’t start moving things the other way. I thanked him and walked out of his office in a cloud of haze.
Returning home that evening I told my wife about the visit. She laughed supportingly as I described how I had just found out I was an “Obese Midget”. We talked through the diet and what I needed to do, but I was teetering on whether or not I was ready for this.
I had committed to helping my neighbor prune an old fruit tree in his backyard. While not excited to do this it was at least something to keep my mind off of the days events….maybe not!
My neighbor was an elderly gentlemen who enjoyed his yard, his garden, and his fruit trees, but had gotten too old to do it all. He had everything prepared for me including an old a-frame latter. When I say “old” I mean it. This thing only had one post on the backside to support the entire ladder and now, yes, a recently diagnosed “obese midget”.
Climbing up the ladder I felt ok, but the branches he needed pruned were at the very top of this tree, maybe 15′ high or so. Cautiously I climbed the ladder careful not to sway it one way or the other. Remember it only had one post to support it. I found a rhythm and started pruning, but I forgot to remain cautious.
Reaching for an unreachable branch the ladder shifted, and well, yep, you guessed it…the ladder fell out from under me.
As the ladder fell out from under me and gravity took over, my first instinct was to grab a branch. The branch I grabbed was easy 6 to 8 inches in diameter and should’ve held me up and allowed me to swing off. Not a chance! It was old enough that it wasn’t about to support this falling obese midget! The branch broke and I fell hard to the ground.
My wife came running over. She had heard the loud obscenity shouted by her “saintly” husband and then saw me falling. Once she saw that I was ok she just started to chuckle. What else was there to do? A grown man had just fallen off a ladder, through a tree and broke a decent size branch in the process.
My neighbor on the other hand wasn’t as amused and thanked me for the help, but he’d have one of his grandkids or relatives come over and finish. One more blow on a day that just wouldn’t stop punching!
While I’ve changed physically and mentally and have come to terms with the fact that I am NOT 6′, that day still brings a smile and a laugh; especially on days like today when I face my old nemesis, the ladder!
For more reading visit www.thelifeitri.com
“The stats” are those fun numbers that we all dread, but can’t help talking about, weight and height. I quickly rattled off both for him and he chuckled. “Thanks, but let’s just check.” I think the chuckle was for my weight. I probably said something like 190 or 200. Yes, I had no clue what I actually weighed at this point.
To the scale we go…you kow the accurate ones that don’t lie and you have to mess with the weights until things balance out. The one that takes forever to get right so you’re just staring at the weights praying they get pushed to the left, not the right. Ya, that scale!
First though he props up the pre-installed yard stick to get my height. “I’m just shy of 6’1″”, I say. Again, a chuckle. I’m not liking the chuckle! “Sorry Greg, you’re just over 5’11″”. “Huh? What? Wait…You’re wrong!” Step back and look and sure enough there it was, proof I had shrunk. I was now a midget! Seriously, my uncles and cousins are 6’4″ and taller, my Dad was 6’1″ & my mom is 5’10″. I am literally the runt of the litter! A midget! (no offense to those who are dwarfs or midgets)
Now, I’m just deflated! It really didn”t matter what my weight is, I was short! Probably hadn’t ever been 6′. I couldn”t even say “I’m 6′”, ’cause now I’m lying. Yes, I obsessed over this more than the weight that was being measured.
Because of my height concern I wasn’t paying attention to the scale. “You weigh 25…” I checked out at that point. I don’t even remember what the exact number was. It wasn’t even close to what I thought I was. I had just told I was short & now this! For a guy struggling with image and life this wasn’t helping.
We walked back to the room and he pulled out a BMI chart. I knew I was overweight, that’s why I was there. I was looking at the words on the chart, “normal”…not me, “overweight”…me, and “obese”…nope, just overweight.
As you do with everone who is lost he drew the line of where my height and weight matched then drew the line down to the word “OBESE”. I honestly didn’t know what to do with that description of me. Overweight I could’ve handled, but the word obese rocked me to the core.
The doctor showed me the magic numbers that brought me to overweight and then to normal. I had a long way to go. This is also when he prescribed the diet I talked about in “my story“. We reviewed things and what it meant for me if I didn’t start moving things the other way. I thanked him and walked out of his office in a cloud of haze.
Returning home that evening I told my wife about the visit. She laughed supportingly as I described how I had just found out I was an “Obese Midget”. We talked through the diet and what I needed to do, but I was teetering on whether or not I was ready for this.
I had committed to helping my neighbor prune an old fruit tree in his backyard. While not excited to do this it was at least something to keep my mind off of the days events….maybe not!
My neighbor was an elderly gentlemen who enjoyed his yard, his garden, and his fruit trees, but had gotten too old to do it all. He had everything prepared for me including an old a-frame latter. When I say “old” I mean it. This thing only had one post on the backside to support the entire ladder and now, yes, a recently diagnosed “obese midget”.
Climbing up the ladder I felt ok, but the branches he needed pruned were at the very top of this tree, maybe 15′ high or so. Cautiously I climbed the ladder careful not to sway it one way or the other. Remember it only had one post to support it. I found a rhythm and started pruning, but I forgot to remain cautious.
Reaching for an unreachable branch the ladder shifted, and well, yep, you guessed it…the ladder fell out from under me.
As the ladder fell out from under me and gravity took over, my first instinct was to grab a branch. The branch I grabbed was easy 6 to 8 inches in diameter and should’ve held me up and allowed me to swing off. Not a chance! It was old enough that it wasn’t about to support this falling obese midget! The branch broke and I fell hard to the ground.
My wife came running over. She had heard the loud obscenity shouted by her “saintly” husband and then saw me falling. Once she saw that I was ok she just started to chuckle. What else was there to do? A grown man had just fallen off a ladder, through a tree and broke a decent size branch in the process.
My neighbor on the other hand wasn’t as amused and thanked me for the help, but he’d have one of his grandkids or relatives come over and finish. One more blow on a day that just wouldn’t stop punching!
While I’ve changed physically and mentally and have come to terms with the fact that I am NOT 6′, that day still brings a smile and a laugh; especially on days like today when I face my old nemesis, the ladder!
For more reading visit www.thelifeitri.com
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