Saturday, June 24, 2006

The exciting life that is Grunt

I've seen a Guinea Pig hump a rabbit today. Killed two rats for my sister. Fixed two of her cars that her well meaning half-wit husband messed with.

I also got trapped, for an hour, by a really troubled woman and listened to all of her problems. I told her to get professional help and all she heard was "Jesus, I need Jesus!". Well, I'm all for that, but I also think you need lots of therapy, lady.

My nephew is deathly ill and now in an emergency room up in Idaho.

On the plus side, I had a mentally ill bus stop guy come over to me, while I was at a stop light, and slap me five and compliment my ride. I laid a sixty-foot patch at his request, despite Clyde needing a major tune up job. The dude was jumping up and down hollerin', rubbing and clapping his hands. This little moment of bliss kept me from wanting to hate the world.

Also, an individual that knows who they are, did something noble today for someone else. They didn't cure cancer, just adjusted/clarified something. I recognize this and give you the Grunty seal of approval, like you needed that.

Lastly, I saw a really gnarled buck today. I marveled at his ability to leap up the mountain side with total grace. I started thinking of all the supposed "ugly" people in the world who do marvelous and good things and don't get noticed because of their cosmetic deficiencies. Why can't we marvel at these people as much as the haggard wild creatures? Can we eye the obese, the asymmetrical, the fashion challenged, the economically unfortunate, the other ethnicities or other races in a way that we don't devalue their contributions based on our preferences? It seems like an easy thing, but unfortunately it is a difficult thing to actually practice.

I've noticed a huge difference in my life since losing a great deal of weight. My physical body is healthier and I can do shit like pullups--something that 260 pounds of Grunt had a hard time with. I'm now down to 215, which for an already heavily built man is good. However, the biggest difference is in how people have treated me. I wore my 260 pounds well. Most didn't think I weighed more than 225. But, I was starting to be treated like the "Fat Person". I didn't realize this until I dropped the weight. Now, people have been complimenting me and telling me that I look good. I like this, but I don't know what to do with these compliments. I didn't get compliments at my most "Brando", other than "You are one hell of a stout guy. I bet you can tear a tree right out of the ground." Never, "You're hot! Please have my children!!!", which I get all the time now. I plan on starting my previous activities again: mountain biking, hiking, back packing, flipping people off, and knitting. Winter will bring back double diamond runs and my knees and back won't be injured afterward. I really missed the skiing the most. I am an expert skier and the challenge of doing highly technical descents was missed dearly. I can freakin' do mogul runs with ease now, I bet. 360's, maybe; cliff jumps, keep them under 20 feet; backflips, shit Grunty, you only did one before, don't kill yourself now.

So, how did I gain all of this weight? It's called 4,000 calories a day and not giving a shit. As is the norm in my life, really bad stuff happens and I have to deal with it. Well, when I turned 27, all my best friends were married and it sucked. I had girls messing with me in a way that really just made me want to castrate myself. On top of all of this, you can add my on-going family saga of misfortune. So by 28, I didn't want to deal with God or another human being again, ever. I really wanted to pull a Rambo, not kill people, but just roam and hide in the hills. I know this sounds gay, but this is how a defeated individual sometimes thinks.

Well, there were many snags in this little fantasy, and so I just let myself go. Doing this really keeps prospective friends and girls at a safe distance. I finished up college at 29 (I started at 25) with excellent grades, but had no desire to do anything with my B.S. in Psychology (Industrial and Organizational). So, I grunted away like I had always done, probably the only thing that kept me from getting bigger than 260.

So, I know a little bit about going unnoticed or being seen as undesirable. It hurts. It sucks the big fat one. It is worse than just dealing, because things just pile up on you. I got my life on track, somewhat, about a little less than a year ago. I've got miles to go to even consider myself on par with who should be considered my peers, given my supreme intelligence and talents (humility is a virtue, btw). It is a bitch, but I am tasting blood and getting my killer instinct back. I still am a bit leary of people's intentions when they are attracted to me. Was I less of a human before? Okay, I had troubles, but I was still a funny, smart, and a handsome-faced gentleman. I'll get over myself, but it hurts now to see this happen to others. I even find myself joining in the ugliness, sometimes. This is wrong.

If you feel like this is happening to you, talk to me. I will listen. Just ask crazy lady how good I am, but don't back me up into a corner and get all freaky, please?

2 comments:

Logophile said...

mwah! Grunty you is the man, you were the man, you will continue to BE the man.
Take it easy on Clyde, and I hope your nephew gets better.
My mum weighed over 300 pounds most of my childhood, I hear ya, I know of what you speak.

The Grunt said...

Thanks, Logo. I'll have to do the requisite before and after shots when I'm back down to 185. I've got a work buddy that is a professional competitor in the dead lift and strongman. He sized me up one day and said that if I was in the 200 under weight class, that I could clean up house. I'm not interested in all that, but I might be willing to get into training again. 350 pounds doesn't just bench itself, you know. Ugh, do I really want to grow out my Fabios again? Maybe I'll get into all that yoga shit and not get all bulky. The thing is, my body responds to heavy lifting--I get huge! I think I'm over that phase of my life, though.