Making Cruiserweight – Is it really a failure?

So I make a lot of jokes, mostly because I find humor more entertaining with regards to things of this nature, and because it is a pro-wrestling oriented site, so if you are here taking things too seriously, you are in the wrong place anyway.

When we set out for Making Cruiserweight and created The Dark Match Cruiserweight Challenge DietBet, I was excited.  I wasn’t feeling my best, hadn’t been working out much for months and was eating poorly on a regular basis.  I’ve curbed a lot of bad habits.  I’ve formed a number of good ones that have really made a world of difference in the way I feel on a daily basis.  I started doing Yoga, and for the first time in the calendar year my back felt good enough last week to test the waters of Deadlifts again, and it flowed miraculously (even if I realized that the exercises I had to avoid for my back problems also rendered my upper legs in less than ideal condition and I spent four days with significant leg pain afterwards).

Why am I going through all of this?  Because I will not successfully reach the goal of the DietBet, and I’m 100% ok with that.  And if you’ve given it your all and you’ve really made some changes in your lifestyle to the point where you feel better, be it physically, emotionally, spiritually, what have you…you should be 100% ok if you don’t hit the exact goal on the scale by the end of next week either.

I’m not making excuses for any of us for not hitting a goal like this, because I don’t have to.  My shoulders, arms, chest, hell even my midsection are showing significant signs that I’ve been giving it my all so I don’t give a rats ass about the number on that scale come the end of next week.  I’ll tell you right now, I’m down about a pound for the course of the 4 week DietBet of the 9 I was told was my target.  I don’t want to lose that 9 pounds.  I really don’t.  If hovering between 224-226 is going to make me more confident in every part of me while I’m working at this, then maybe I’m not supposed to be any smaller.  I’m not about to go weeks without sleep and take shitloads of caffeine pills like Brad Pitt did for Fight Club.  I’m 6’3″ tall.  I spent the better part of 2015 bulk eating and working out and built some pretty decent base mass that all turned into mush when I blew out my back just before Christmas last year and I never really got back into my rhythm until this whole thing started.

I feel good.  And that’s what matters, and that’s really the only reason we went this route was because we didn’t feel good.  If you lose your $32 on a DietBet but you feel good about what you accomplished during it, then you didn’t lose anything.  It’s not failure if you’ve succeeded in other ways.  It’s ok to fail, it’s ok to fail a lot, Donald Trump is worth a billion dollars and is running for President in spite of his countless failed marriages and bankruptcy filings.  Ben Affleck won an Oscar and then he dated Jennifer Lopez, it’s ok to fail, now he’s Batman.  And yes, I consider dating Jennifer Lopez the relationship equivalent of filing bankruptcy.

So keep pushing, keep righting.  Redesign, rebuild, reclaim yourself.  It’s not about the number on an app or a scale or a screen or any of that shit.  You’re not doing this for anybody but yourself anyway, so keep taking the motivation that these things provide, but do not let yourself be discouraged when your hard work is not met with a drastically falling body weight.  You’ve done yourself so much more good than harm just by working hard at it.  Don’t forget that.  I sure as hell won’t let myself be discouraged to the point where I give up and get floppy again.

So this week, I weighed in at 226.4.  I don’t give a shit.  Roman Reigns is 6’3″ tall and 265 lbs.  No, I’m not built like an outside linebacker, but it’s feasible.

Just stay the course.  What you’re doing is working for you, even if it isn’t working for the scale.  You’re better than a number on a machine anyway.

And when all else fails, there’s this:

So let’s fail, and let’s fail together, and let’s revel in the fact that we’ve won when an app is going to tell us we’ve lost.