Bringing everyone up to speed (which is currently 20 mph below the posted Speed Limit)

Hello again.  Well, hello again to those of you who have decided to take this journey with me.  Hello for the first time to you lucky few who are just joining us.

I started this blog with the intention of chronicling my every step in turning my life around.  The MMA training is of course just a means to an end.  Many of you have asked me why I chose MMA, and "When is your first fight?", etc. etc.  Let me just clarify something here:  I'm not joining up in an MMA class so that I can beat the snot out of someone.  Nor am I joining it to learn "...how to kick ass".  Rather, I recognize that there are some flaws in my character (both internally and externally), and I'm making a conscious effort to make some changes.  MMA is just a way for me to channel some aggression and get into a workout routine that isn't going to bore me to tears.

Obviously, before I begin this new fitness routine, I'll have to take some other measures.  The last thing I'd want to do is to jump into it half-cocked, so I'm going to be doing my research.  There's several MMA classes in my area, and I'm going to go to several of them to observe classes so that I can get a feel for what's involved in the training, see how the school is run, see if there's any other guys like me in the class, etc.  This is what we call HOMEWORK.  :)

Beyond that, I realize there are health issues to be concerned with.  As stated in my last post, I'm possibly hypoglycemic, or perhaps even diabetic.  I will be making a phone call in the morning to a physician so that I can make an appointment to get a check-up, etc.  Gotta make sure I'm healthy enough to do the training, no?

Of course, I'm also not going to just jump into a workout routine, regardless of how much fun it may look like.  I'm severely out of shape, and I'd like to make sure I don't drop dead during the first class, so I will be altering a few things before that.  Namely, my diet.

Like I said before, fast food (particularly Ultimate Cheeseburgers) is the bane of my existence.  Coupled with that, my affinity for soft drinks (particularly Coca Cola) is also a detriment to my health and this workout.  So, I'm going to be drastically altering my diet.  I've tried it before, with a little bit of success.  Now it's just a matter of seeing it through to the end.  That end hopefully being a much slimmer (or at the least, a much leaner, meaner) Jeremy.

Tuesdays are Weight Watcher days.  Now, I know what you might be thinking.  Yes, I've been a Weight Watcher in the past, and yes I had success with it.  I've also been a Weight Watcher consistently for nearly two years now alongside my brother.  We go every Tuesday to get weighed in, joke with the little old ladies, and then head off to get lunch.  Unfortunately, going to Weight Watchers and weighing in does NOT equal success.  You have to FOLLOW the program to get results.  And, since I'm not pulling any punches here, I haven't followed the program strictly for a good long while now.   I won't make excuses here.  I just simply got lazy.  And, as a result, I'm not ten pounds HEAVIER than when I started the program almost two years ago.

The good thing about this new attitude of mine is this:  tomorrow is a new day.  Tomorrow also starts Weight Watchers new "Points Plus" Program, which means I'm going to be re-learning how to do everything on the program anyway, so it's perfect timing.  I spend tonight re-learning the program, learn the new tricks and tips, and apply that to my new attitude and hopefully my new workout routine.  The new Weight Watchers program is quite a bit different from what I'm used to doing.  Whereas in the past I was allowed 44 points a day (due to my size), I'm now allowed 71.  I'm going to have to sit down with these books and learn just what this new point system is.  Oh well.  It's all part of reinventing who I am.

Just so you get an idea of WHY I'm taking this journey, I want to share a story with you.  This past weekend, I went with my family to see a Houston Texans football game.  I knew it was going to be a little difficult on me, but I wanted to go.  Of course, the cold, hard fact of me being fat and out of shape was SMACKED into my face several times during the course of the day.  First, I wanted to buy a Texans Jersey.  I found one I liked, and it was an XXL.  Unfortunately for me, I wear a XXXXL.  Yes, that's a FOUR-X.  Most people don't believe me when I tell them, but it's true.  Sad, but true.  Now, football jerseys' sizes are actually a bit weird, as they're made to accommodate shoulder pads, etc., so an XXL in this case is about the right size.  I tried it on.  It was a bit snug around my love handles, and I was depressed.  I bought it anyway.  And I wore it the whole game... with a jacket over it to hide my embarrassment.  Getting to our seats was just brutal.  We went up four escalators (the fat man's friend), and then had to walk up several flights of steep stairs to our seats.  They were "nosebleed" seats, but in that stadium, there's really not a bad seat.  Of course, that's a matter of opinion.  View-wise, they were good.  Comfortability-wise, not so much.  See, being a Fat Guy, the arms of the chair essentially dug into my fat thighs the whole game.  It was made worse by the fact that I couldn't keep my phone in my pants pocket, as that would have crushed it between my thigh and the seat.  Joy.  By the end of the game (which the Texans won, by the way), I was pretty miserable.  The escalators going down, however, were being monitored (due to congestion), and as a result, we got to WALK DOWN several ramps to get to the bottom levels.  And then when we got to the parking lot, we got to WALK to our car.  By the time we were ready to leave the stadium, my legs were so sore, I could barely drive.  I literally had issues using the gas and brake pedals.  Clear sign something's wrong, no?

And then, to top it off and make my day that much more humiliating, I came home with the intentions of resting for a bit, and meeting some friends for a few drinks.  Instead, I sat on my couch, and promptly passed out until midnight, when I awoke in a panic thinking I had overslept.  Hate it when that happens.

Now, onto other things.  I started this blog to hopefully entertain you, entertain myself, and also give you a little insight into how my brain operates.  Most people only know one side of me, and that's the side of the lovable perv filmmaker who is always there when a friend needs it.  However, there is a much, much darker side to me, and obviously this is the one that I'm going to be exposing here in this very public forum.  Now, I don't mean dark in the sense that I'm going to start sacrificing goats or small children, but rather, I'm going to let my insecurities out into the light a bit, and share with all of you the inner pain that I've felt for years, and maybe it just may echo something you've experienced as well.

Beyond all of this, this blog is about one thing:  ACCOUNTABILITY.  See, with it being in such a public forum, I have little to no excuses when I either don't post a new blog, or if I fuck up and get off track with my diet or my workout routine.  I can sit and be angry at myself all day long, and tell myself I need to stay on track, but with this journal online, other people can keep up with me, and maybe help right the train back on the tracks should I have a weak moment or nine.

So, in an effort to be as raw and real as possible, I'm going to do something now I didn't think I would ever do, and if you're squeamish, you may want to turn away.

I'm going to post a topless photo on here.

Now, I realize it's not pornographic, but not a lot of people want to sit and look at a fat man's gut.  I know I certainly don't.  And the reason I'm going to post it is because I want to show the world what I'm working with, and what I'm trying to get rid of.  Who knows?  Maybe this will inspire someone else to be brave and bold, too.

So...  without further ado....

Ta-Da!  The Fat Guy.

Hopefully I can post more photos as a chronicling of my progress soon.

So, to recap, I'm making a doctor's appointment in the morning for a checkup to make sure I'm healthy enough for any sort of strenuous workout.  And tonight, I'm going to fix my dinner (healthIER naturally), and perhaps do a little bit on the elliptical before watching some more Ultimate Fighter.

Or maybe Dexter...  Hmmm...

Until next time.  I love you all.

TFG

Pre-game.

This is going to be interesting...

As I'm writing this, it is 11:26 pm on November 27th, 2010.  Let me just start by telling you a few things about myself.

Firstly, as the title of this blogspot suggests, I am a Fat Guy.  Now, I'm not saying that to be cute, or ironic, or anything else.  I'm literally fat.  I'm over 350 pounds now.  I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life, and I'm not happy about it at all.  I've tried all of the fad diets.  Most of them left me more pissed off than anything, and heading straight for Jack in the Box.  For those of you that care, my weakness is Ultimate Cheeseburgers.  At one point in my life (thankfully MANY years ago), I could eat as many as 3 a day.  I don't know what it is about them.  They taste decent (they used to taste better ten years ago, though), and they fill me up pretty nicely.  But, I'll admit it:  I'm addicted to them.  I find myself unable to break free of their grasp, and it's going to put me into an early grave.

But, I digress.  The whole point of starting this blog is not to whine or complain, or depress any of you who might be reading it.  Let me get back to my introduction, shall I?

My name is Jeremy Sumrall.  I'm 33 years old (34 in March), and, like I said earlier, I weigh over 350 pounds.  I got married to a wonderful woman in October of 2008, and she left me in August of 2010.  We're still legally married, but separated, and the lines of communication are GONE.  Guess she's not so wonderful anymore.  That's an OPINION, by the way, lest she find I wrote this and try and sue my ass for slander.  Opinions are protected under the first amendment.

My father is a diabetic, and has been one for many, many years.  He's on insulin, and he hates having to do the shots every day.  His sister is also a diabetic, and his mother was as well.  So, let's just say that diabetes is definitely knocking on my door.  In fact, I dare say I could potentially be hypoglycemic.  You see, just earlier today I was in Hastings doing some Xmas shopping with my brother, and I realized I hadn't eaten pretty much all day.  I started getting nervous, and sweaty, and was having some issues with my speech.  Classic symptoms of hypoglycemia.  Of course, I'm not a hypochondriac, nor am I a doctor, and I've never been tested, so I cannot say for certain.

However, issues like this have arisen in the past, and today it really rocked me to my core.  I don't know why today was any different than the other times it's happened, but it was.

Perhaps it's because just recently I discovered UFC.  Now, I had seen Ultimate Fighting a few years ago, and it sort of bored me.  I was a big wrestling fan when I was younger, and I even have a WWF tattoo on my left shoulder blade (it's a terrible looking tattoo; don't judge me!).  That stuff was exciting.  I couldn't stand watching Ultimate Fighting.  It was 30 minutes of rest holds.  Thank you, but I'll pass.

Of course, in recent years, UFC has exploded into this huge sport.  I was still on my anti-UFC bandwagon up until a few weeks ago.  My nephew, who is almost 18 now, has been training in MMA, and he loves it to death.  So, he and my brother would sit and talk about UFC for hours, and they'd always say that I should sit and watch some and get into it.  I'd of course brush it off, and sometimes even make fun of them for liking it.

A couple of weeks ago, I don't know what snapped, but I found myself watching a BEST OF UFC with my brother, and I got interested in it.  Since that point, I've found myself thinking about it non-stop, buying tons of DVDs and Blu-Rays, watching seasons of The Ultimate Fighter, and even going so far as to download a UFC NEWS LIVE app onto my HTC EVO with Android.  I guess you could say I have an obsessive personality.  Again, don't judge.

So anyway, in watching all of this stuff, I'm seeing guys in peak physical form, and finding myself more than a little jealous.  It's not necessarily all of the fighting and bloodletting that got me jealous, but moreso their workout routines.  These guys train for ridiculous amounts of time each day, and sometimes even multiple times in a single day.  And then they go into these fights and just pound the ever-loving snot out of each other, and are able to walk away and fight another day.  That's impressive.

That brings us to the point of this blog.  I'm nearly 34 years old, possibly borderline diabetic, over 350 pounds, newly separated from my wife, and basically I'm at a crossroads.  I know something needs to change.  Change is not going to be easy, but if I want to survive to see 40, I have to do something.  I can't do it alone.  And maybe this blog is my way of putting my story out there so that I can feel like I'm not alone, after all.  Maybe it's just a cathartic way for me to put my thoughts into words so that I can look back on them and remind myself that I have got to do something positive for myself at this point in my life.

Or, maybe I'm leaving a journal as an epitaph for myself.  I really would rather it not be the latter.

So...  Here we go.  Perhaps I'm taking the plunge.  Time to do some research, and find out if I'm going to start doing some training to get in better shape for myself.

Because at the end of the day, I can only do this for myself.