If you were to see me at the gym three years ago, and compare me, to how I look today, you would be hard press to believe that I was not always this way.
What brought about the change? Why did I transform, when others in the same time span had not?
As I look back on my journey, in order to relay to you, the why, as opposed to the how, I recall the moment that engendered my transformation. I had been exercising for over a year, with little in the way of results to show for it.
The company I was working for at the time decided it had to cut labor to stay in business, and it would accomplish this by merging departments. My position unfortunately was being eliminated. The Human Resources manager came to see me, and read from a script, detailing my options after my position was eradicated.
The irony in all this, I was expected to work for another two weeks, so as to not upset the store’s business due to the reallocation of personnel. To add injury to insult, the HR manager gave me a form to sign, which included the names of counselors, to help individuals who could not cope with the loss of employment.
After I signed the form, it was the last time, the company ever saw me. I had made up my mind, as the HR manager, who obviously was going through the motions, delivered her message that I would not spend another day working for such a classless organization.
I had miscalculated the job market and my ability to secure another vocation. I had told my wife, I would be out of work for a few weeks, and it actually lasted several months. So, as I did my best Michael Keaton’s, “Mr. Mom” impersonation, the weeks at home were beginning to take its toll on me.
What was even more depressing, the unemployment form that had to be filled out, in order to receive an insufficient monetary compensation. This was my prevailing thought as I stared at myself in the mirror.
The gym became a sort of refuge for me. It was the only place, at least for a couple of hours each day, where I could escape, the jeers from my wife and my own pessimistic thoughts that I would never be gainfully employed again. I needed to feel good about something, and looking at my distended midsection, lack of muscular development did nothing to alleviate those concerns either.
It was at this point, my spirit at its lowest ebb, when I remembered . . .
BMBooth
Strength & Vigour 