It began in London. I’m not sure exactly when or why, but things have changed.
I weigh a lot less than I used to. Over the course of the past year and a half I’ve probably lost about 50 pounds. The funny thing is I don’t really know why, and it hasn’t been a conscious effort; it has just happened.
I am asked (quite often), Tyler, have you lost weight? To which I generally respond, Yes, I have, (smile and nod). Some people leave it at that, pleased for me that I have accomplished something, others push further.
Person A: What did you do?
Me: (This may be an attempt to discover my cleverly guarded secret, proceed carefully) Nothing really.
Person B: Nothing, really? You must have done something?
Me: Well, I suppose I eat less. (Good, good. Parry, give away nothing)
Person A: Do you feel better?
Me: (Oh, as strong as a horse, indeed. I used to feel so fat – terrible really, slothing around the house like a bloated drugged out hippie… ha! Oh, wait, they want me to answer.) Can’t really say that I do, it happened so gradually.
Person B: Good for you, that’s great; you look great.
Me: Thank you.
I know they all mean well. But it’s awkward. It’s as if I’ve done something wonderful – something I should be proud of and beam about to everyone I know, publish as press releases, post on Christmas cards. As if my being slightly heavier was a burden I was happy to rid myself of; now relieved of this I’m free to dance and sing and run marathons.
But I haven’t done anything. Nothing. In fact, I do less now than I did before. I’m working full time now and I’m convinced that I sit about 90% more than I stand. I can feel my legs atrophying day by day and honestly need to do something soon before my legs give up on me and stop working altogether.
There are times when I take pride in my “accomplishment,” but they are awkward, odd and sporadic moments in front of the mirror where I realize I have abs again – and those strange lines running from my lower abdomen into my groin where the muscle is actually defined (they have never been before).
More often than not I feel like I’ve stolen something. So I’ll continue to smile and nod, prescribing false diets and exercise schedules. I don’t think people want to hear: You want to lose weight? Eat less. Walk more.