I’m going to show you a lot of pictures right now — 22 to be exact. They all have two things in common. One common trait is that I am in all the pictures. I’ll tell you the other thing after you take a look and see if you can guess.
My Little League picture when I was 11.
My school picture from around fourth grade, probably.
Prom picture from my junior year in high school.
Me and my sweetheart in the spring of 2005.
A bunch of us from my AP Government class in 12th grade. I’m the guy in the baseball jersey with a Blow Pop in his mouth.
Me and me two sons in the summer of 2012.
With my brother and best friend at Yankee Stadium in September 2011.
With my wife in St. Thomas, June 2010.
St. Thomas, June 2010.
Senior year in high school. I don’t remember why we were dressed like that.
This was in the early 1990s, so the MC Hammer shirt was probably totally cool.
Family picture from mid-2005.
Our wedding day.
Me and my brothers in February 2000.
The day I graduated from high school.
Me and my brothers again, probably around Christmas 2000.
Beth and me when we were engaged, summer 2003.
My sister and me at a BYU football game. Probably around 1999.
Sometime in high school.
All of my siblings and me. I must have been about 10, probably.
Junior prom day.
Probably around my senior year in high school, 1995.
Can you guess what they all have in common? Here’s a hint:
That’s right. In every one of those pictures, my self-image was that I looked roughly like Jabba the Hutt. All these difference pictures, from different stages in life, different heights and weights, different hairstyles :-), and yet, in every single one of them, I thought I looked the same: big and fat.
That brings me to the picture I posted at the beginning of this post. You see it going around Facebook once in a while. It says: “I wish I was as skinny as I was back when I thought I was fat.” It’s funny, because it does a halfway decent job of identifying and poking fun at human nature. But it really does only do a halfway decent job.
I would look at that when I weighed 350 and think, “Man, I remember when I weighed 310 in high school and I thought I was so fat, but I sure wish I weighed 310 now.” And then I’d be pushing 400 and have the same thoughts about when I weighed 350.
You see, while we’re good at identifying the ridiculous aspects of how we used to think, we’re not great at recognizing how stupid we are right now. But if we spend our time right now wishing we looked the way we used to look instead of doing something about it, it is almost a foregone conclusion that we will soon look worse and be wishing for the good old days of right now.
The real question we need to answer is this: if I could magically look the way I used to look back when I thought I was fat, what would I do about it? Would we take our newfound perspective and be happy at that weight? I don’t think so. I think the thing that appeals to us about those old “less fat” pictures is being that much closer to where we ultimately want to be, having that much less to lose.
So if we can agree that getting down to our old weight would motivate us and make it easier to get where we need to be, and if we can agree that there’s a good chance that today’s pictures will look relatively good to us when we’ve gained another 10 or 50 pounds, then let’s just pretend and skip the middle man of gaining 10 or 50 pounds.
Try this: pretend you used to be 50 pounds heavier. Pretend you are six months into a successful diet/exercise program and you’re “down to” your current weight. Is your mindset different? Are you a little more motivated to do the next 10 or 20 or 50 pounds?
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