At the time of writing, it’s 11.56pm. I’m sat, in the dark, watching something on TV about a guy who’s 40 stone. He just explained, at length, that he hates salads. I saw that coming.
It got me to thinking. This time last year I was 2 stone heavier than I am now. And you know what? I was happier for it.
Here are my 4 reasons I was happier when I was fat:
1) I didn’t have to worry about clothes fitting me.
Because none did. Literally none of my clothes fit nicely when I got stupidly fat, and so I didn’t have to worry about it. I could just walk around looking chunky as fuck without a care in the world, busting out of my shirts and exposing my beautiful hairy chest when the buttons pulled apart. Accidentally. All the time.
2) I could eat whatever I wanted.
No restrictions. At lunch, I’d come home from work and break out 4 slices of thick wholemeal bread (which was a crucial part of me convincing myself I was still being healthy) and I’d spread on some reduced fat butter. At this point I know what you’re thinking – wholemeal bread AND reduced fat butter – HERO. I know, I know. Then came the peanut butter. Oh, the peanut butter. THEN came the sweetcorn. It’s a vegetable, sort of, right? Then, the pièce de résistance… the most calorific of all foods that ‘look a bit healthy’ – the avocado. Slices, and slices, of beautiful, delicious, fat-infused avocado. Stick a bit of spinach on there so it looks a bit green. 8 million calories later, I’m healthy as fuck bro and it’s back to work. Boom.
The most brilliant part of that sandwich is I actually stole the idea for it from Rener Gracie. Yes, Rener Gracie of the Gracie Jiu Jitsu family. He has a similar sandwich he makes prior to training, called the Renergy sandwich. So yeah, I was basically copying one of the worlds most elite athletes food habits and convincing myself I was being really health conscious. Oh, and not exercising at all. Standard.
3) If I was witness to a robbery, nobody would expect me to chase anyone.
I’m serious. When you’re fat, nobody expects you to run. Even now, if I was to bear witness to a woman getting her bag stolen, I’d have to chase the perpetrator for at least 30 meters or so before faking an old sporting injury, grabbing my leg and falling on the floor. This time last year, I would have just pointed towards my belly and everyone would have understood the situation.
4) No working out means more time for thinking about working out.
The final reason I was happier when I was fat, is that I didn’t have to do any exercise. Surprisingly, this really freed up a lot of time for me to sit down and think about how I should start exercising. Sitting there, thinking about how I should start working out was one of the most liberating experiences of my lifetime. I’d think about going to the gym, and I’d think about working out at home. I’d think about doing cardio, and I’d think about body-building. I’d think about a LOT, and I’d do ZERO.
On some level, I don’t think I’ll ever be that happy again. Hum.