I used to swim like a fish. At twelve, I was the favorite to win the swimming contest at Camp Copithorne. The trophy was to be presented by a young Ted Kennedy. It was in the bag. Nobody could touch me in the water.
That night, just before awards, they brought me outside and broke the news, “We have to give the award to Tommy Cleveland, he has more of a swimmer’s build.”
I had absolutely idea what they were talking about. I was twelve, for crissakes.
I would stare at Tommy for the rest of camp.
Then, Claire Nickerson broke off with me when I took my shirt off at Sandy Beach. I was 14. Dumped me cold and told me why. I had skinny arms and a medicine ball for a mid-section. That was embarrassing. What did I know? Who knew Claire used to judge bodybuilding contests?
I’ve been running with that body type for most of my life. Like a rope with a knot in the middle. Until I hit seventy. Isn’t that sick? 70 was when I got the right information.
When I learned the difference between weight and fat. Between aerobic and anaerobic exercise. What insulinogenic means, or how fat gets stored. What cortisol, the stress hormone, does to the body.
The myths got destroyed and I went to work on myself. The changes came fast and furious. Your body can be your enemy or your friend. It just needs the right type of care and feeding.
After two years of self discovery, I have a message and a plan. Stay tuned.
Oh, and screw you, Claire Nickerson.