A Binge To Remember

JoshTheGiant

Hey everyone! I wrote a short-run book that's going to be on Kindle later this month. The title is, "Journal of an Obese Athlete." It is based on my struggles with weight and food throughout my career as a college athlete. This is a good binge story so I figured I'd share here!

(Excerpt from kindle single that I authored, "Journal of an Obese Athlete")


"We won the game, and I got the win. The shoulder injury I had been hiding from my coach and team starting flaring up once again. And as the pain grew, so did my intake of prescription ibuprofen. I got through the post-game interview with the local newspapers and slept the whole way back to the hotel on the bus. Between the back spasms, weight gain, and shoulder pain, I had a feeling this was going to be my last season.

As we returned to the hotel, the team was going out to celebrate. I declined to go and went to crash alone in my room. By this point I had learned to do daily tasks through shortcuts and with my left hand. Brush my teeth, change my clothes; you name it and I could do it left handed. I undressed and fell onto the bed in my boxers. For a moment I stared at the needle marks on my body from the team’s trainer that would, “ease the pain.” All this did was numb my arm so I could lift it to throw a baseball. Then afterwards, when it wore off, I would down ibuprofen like tic-tac’s. The only comfort I could think of was to stuff my face. When you stay in hotels as a collegiate athlete, you could have whatever you want and never see a bill. So I called room service and ordered a feast. One pepperoni pizza, two chicken cutlets with cheddar cheese and bacon, one feta cheeseburger, and a large diet coke to wash it all down. This was my celebration, and I was going to enjoy it.

I drifted off after placing the order, and woke up to the knocking on my door. “Come in, it’s open,” I yelled over the sport’s center program playing loudly on the television. As the man entered my room with my comforting fix, he looked at me lying on the bed a mess and realized all this food was for one person. He must have expected to see a family of four or more. We’ll call him George. “Sir, I know who you are. I follow college baseball and you have one of the best curveballs I have ever seen.” “Thank you,” I replied half-asleep, hoping he would just leave so I could try to indulge in my food alone and pass out. “I know I may be crossing the line, but why eat so much? Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I blurted back. “And I don’t need therapy from a hotel server.” George seemed to not be shaken by my nastiness. “This right here, this is depressing. You have the world by the balls and you’re throwing it away.” It was clear to me George had made himself right at home in my hotel room, so I figured I’d shimmy myself up and at least throw the blanket over my legs. I apologized for being a jerk and thanked him for his concern. I explained I was just in normal after-game pains and I would be fine. I could tell he wasn’t buying it, and he seemed like he was genuinely concerned. So I responded to George how I responded to anyone who I felt was concerned about me at the time; I pushed him away and made him leave the room. “Take care of yourself, Josh. There’s going to be scouts around. They’re staying in this hotel. A few are from the Yankees.” And with that, George was gone.

I was so unreasonably angry that I ended up eating the entire order in about twenty-nine minutes. I was angry at the food I ate. I was angry at everyone who seemed to be concerned. I was angry that I was alone in my hotel room in physical agony as the rest of the team was out celebrating. I was angry that I was gaining so much weight so fast. I channeled my anger towards everyone and everything. My blame was aimed everywhere, no spot being off limits except for one. That was the place it should have been aimed the entire time; towards myself.

What made me the angriest was watching the light at the end of my tunnel slowly fade to black, and there was nothing I could do to revive the light. It was as beautiful as an autumn sunset, followed by the tragedy of never returning. The darkest of nights would last for an eternity. I wasn’t prepared for this emotionally, so I continued to prolong the inevitable through medication and “comfort,” binging.

I felt sick after consuming all of that food so quickly. I crawled across the bed to reach for the television remote. Every inch became more difficult than the previous. I managed to grab it and turn off the volume. I lit up a cigarette and took a handful of ibuprofens with the diet coke I had left from my binge. This had become a routine in my life. Eating until I was sick went from being a complete stranger to an immediate relative within one year. And that clingy *kitten* demanded that we spend a ton of “quality time,” together.

I grabbed the hotel notepad from the bed stand and started to write very sloppily. It was a message I needed to get off of my chest and onto some paper. To this day I still have the original paper I wrote this on. I keep it in my wallet to remind me of my struggles and that I will forever be overcoming them.

Here’s what I wrote that night:

[ Food is not my enemy, neither are the people who seem to tempt me with what they eat. Food is my friend and meant to be enjoyed. The enemy is my reliance on food; my self-control. Food is not a solution to conflicts I face. The courage to confront the deeper motivation is only fueled by the depth of my willingness to let go. Once I accept myself as responsible, the solution is found. In return, my journey is traveled with a reduced load. ]

There was nothing I wanted more in this world than to play baseball professionally at the time. I had many opportunities that I was lucky to have throughout my career. Some of them went well, some not so well. I had progressed into a self-inflicting monster that could not be tamed. There are plenty of times that I had sabotaged my own opportunities. My meeting with the Yankees scouts that week, however, takes the cake."

uconnwinsnc

Wow...

JoshTheGiant

Wow...

yeah.