Right now, at this moment, I have no desire to move. Well, maybe a better way to put it is: I physically cannot move. My entire body, every single muscle, is sore and worn out. My legs are in so much pain that they have actually become totally numb. My arms are stiff and lifeless. It feels as if someone keeps punching me in the shoulder over and over again. And then there is the neck, which hurts worse than any other part of my body; no longer can it rotate to the left or the right. Well, it can, but any movement comes along with an excruciating, stinging sensation which I ‘d really rather avoid.
It feels like I was in a car wreck, but I wasn’t. I assume this is similar to what someone who got thrashed at a bar fight would experience, but that didn’t happen either. Instead all of this pain and agony is the direct result of going to the gym. It’s not so much that I over did it- anyone who saw me working out knows that wasn’t the case. It’s more that this was my first appearance there in at least six months. Consequently, I am totally, completely and utterly out of shape.
Many of us struggle with our weight. I don’t know how it is for you, but for me, even when I am at my worst,it really only seems like a temporary problem. When I look years into the future, things have magically been fixed. The image that comes to mind is a man with a surfboard stomach and bulging biceps. You should see him… and one day you will. At that time you will agree that he looks good! Really good! I am so convinced that I will eventually get there that I can actually put off getting started. Well, that used to be the case- but not anymore.
Motivation can sometimes come from the most unlikely of sources. That’s what happened with me. Just a few weeks ago some younger colleagues of mine wanted to see a tape from my old reporter days. In television terms this is the equivalent of showing someone your high school yearbook. I knew how it would go down. They would laugh at how much my hair style (not to mention hairline) has changed. They would find it remarkably funny to see me in suits and ties. I rarely get dressed up for work these days. They may even call me names. Oh, and I have to admit to looking like a nerd. You see, back in the day I wore horn-rimmed glasses meant to make me look smarter.
Still, none of that would deter me. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in putting in the tape. Even with all the inevitable, good natured office teasing I knew my younger friends would be impressed. They would see my talent and have to admit that I was very good at what I use to do for a living.
“Wow!” One of them said just a few moments after the tape started rolling. It sounded like he was about to give me praise; instead he finished his sentence with a question; “Where’s the rest of you?”
What! Where’s the rest of you? I am not sure but that sounds like he’s calling me fat! The nerve of him! That was certainly harsh and uncalled for.
Sure the person on the video tape, the old Doug, was much thinner. Perhaps as much as forty pounds, but that was a long time ago- at least six years have come and gone. A lot has changed since then; I’ ve entered my thirties, I am now a father, and I’m no longer am on the go as much. These days I am stuck behind a desk. This young punk kid in his early 20’s just doesn’t understand that our appearances change with age.
After the shock of his words settled in, my mind started to go over the proper responses. Once upon a time I would have been tempted to engage in physical violence, or at the very least come up with a witty come back: “Oh, yeah! Well, I am rubber and you’re glue…” During a different part of my life a more passive aggressive technique would have been used; I wouldn’t have just ignored what he said, I would have completely ignored him- gone months without saying hello or acknowledging his existences in any way shape or form. That would have taught him!
Those options were quickly discarded as being too childish and immature. Besides, now that I am part of management, I have a better trick: I could rearrange his work schedule and give him the most dreadful of assignments. Oh, don’t put it pass me. I would have done it…if only it wasn’t for one thing. You see, as much as I hated to hear what he had to say, the truth is he was right.
The Old Testament is filled with stories of prophets. Most carried messages of doom and gloom and virtually all of them were ignored. People just don’t like to hear bad news. It’s so much easier to just kill the messenger. One of my favorite stories is that of King Zedekiah. He received a warning from the prophet Jeremiah. The prediction was one of death and destruction. Zedekiah’s response was to throw the prophet in a dungeon. “I don’t want to hear this stuff; get rid of him!” And so the problem became worse and ultimately death and destruction found the king.
Perhaps we still have prophets in today’s world. They may not see directly into the future, but like Jeremiah, they often tell us things we’d rather ignore…only to have the problem grow worse. They’re the bill collectors who’s phone calls we screen, or our parents offering up unsolicited advice> They’re the friend warning us that we are moving too quickly in a romance, or the spouse who nags that we should really get that pain checked out. And yes, sometimes they can be that punk kid at the office who phrases something rather harshly. Although it really doesn’t matter what words he used, the message is still be the same: “Doug, you better change your ways or else…”
So yeah, I am in pain today, but at least I got the message.
Question for comment
When was the last time someone told you something you didn’t want to hear? What was the end result from ignoring their words?
I know what the next Off the Wahl will be about; I just don’t know when I will get over my current stage of writer’s bloc to put it together. We put too much stock into numbers. It seems like society has come to the conclusion that bigger is always better. Is there really a correlation between popularity and quality…after all Hannah Montana can sell out a show but at end of the day it’s still Hannah Montana. I learned a lesson recently that puts numbers into perspective…and I’ll share that lesson with you…just as soon as I get around to writing it. It’s going to be called “Confessions of a Spiritual Snob.
Welcome to Off the Wahl 