Crisis provokes change at Six Flags
When your butt doesn't fit in a roller coaster seat, maybe you alter your habits.
“Batman: The Ride” aka “The ride in which John’s ass didn’t fit.” (Courtesy Six Flags)
I couldn’t fit on the goddam rollercoaster.
It was March 2021. Six Flags Great Adventure opened for the season. We’re members of the park, which allows us to go as many times as we’d like. And although the temperatures are still a little too chilly, the lines are non-existent.
My eldest is the “roller coaster queen.” She’s loved them since she went on her first trip on the Loch Ness Monster at Busch Gardens Williamsburg VA in the summer of 2015. Because of this, we eventually became members at GA because they happen to have rollercoasters there. Plus, it’s a good place to go when we don’t have something going on during the weekend.
We hadn’t gone on “Batman: The Ride” for ages. So, we decided to take advantage of the short wait. We traveled through long meandering maze, hopped up the steps, got right to the gates in order to go on the ride. We go to sit down, I push the restraint down…
…and the damn thing didn’t close. No matter what they did, they couldn’t buckle it shut. There was too much of me and not enough space. So, I had to get off the ride and wait by the exit as my daughter enjoyed the ride without her dad.
What’s more, we couldn’t go on the parachute drop together at the same time because I weighed too much. They tried lifting the thing and A FRICKIN’ ALARM told the operator we were above the weight limit. Trying to shove myself into some of the other roller coasters was extremely uncomfortable. What the hell?
I stewed. And the thought wasn’t present of mind, but it was there: What the hell did I do to myself? I used to be in excellent shape. I used to have abs. I strode around the nude beach at Sandy Hook without any self-consciousness. When I finally had confidence in myself, finding women who wanted me was not difficult at all…
…and now, here I am, an obese middle-aged man with thinning hair who couldn’t fit on a stupid rollercoaster.
At the time, I didn’t realize how important this moment was. Over a year later, it’s what was my entry point to my current recovery process.
Admitting is the first step.
A few years back I read the “Big Book” along with the “12 Steps and 12 Traditions,” both written by Bill W. of Alcoholics Anonymous. Both are interesting reads. And although it was written for an audience of alcoholics in mind, there was a lot of useful general information in both.
It was a suggestion from Michael W. Deen who ran a podcast/radio show called “The Freedom Feens.” The Freedom Feens was great because it wasn’t just a standard issue libertarian show. Michael entertained multiple topics and his rotating set of co-hosts kept everything interesting.
For a few weeks, Michael’s minor obsession were the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous. What followed was a series of shows on the major works of the group and how they can be applied to day-to-day life, independent of addiction or belief in a Higher Power.
So what the heck, you can find the books for free online so I did. I was commuting to Manhattan and I had nothing but time. This quote stuck with me and I found it to be immensely powerful:
"Until he so humbles himself, his sobriety—if any—will be precarious. Of real happiness he will find none at all. Proved beyond doubt by an immense experience, this is one of the facts of A.A. life. The principle that we shall find no enduring strength until we first admit complete defeat is the main taproot from which our whole Society has sprung and flowered."
-12 Steps and 12 Traditions, p 22.
I’m not an alcoholic. Granted, for many years, drinking regularly vs. being an alcoholic was a distinction without much difference. But that was a symptom. My crisis point which made life unmanageable were negative pre-established habits. It was a victim mentality. It was low-level mental illness that I know I had but did little to address.
COVID was rough on everyone for reasons which don’t need to be rehearsed here. I drank and ate to coat my anxieties. That was a common antidote during the interim. But, if I’m being honest, that was how I dealt with things for years. It blunted the sensations of the depression without addressing them. Don’t want to deal with all the crap? Just eat your way out of your problems! That works, right?
It was not fitting on the rollercoaster which forced me to understand that I was powerless over this degradation and my life had become unmanageable.
My own multi-step program:
I don’t want to go into the spiritual aspects of my self-improvement here. Although there are dimensions to that in my own recovery, I want to really hone in upon the process I’ve followed. And yes, this whole thing has been a process—not a diet, not an exercise program.
I did what everyone tells you what you’re supposed to: Eat healthily, don’t drink so much, exercise. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Those physical actions are important, no doubt. But you don’t become a daily exercise freak by knowing what you need to do. The physical is only the manifestation of the psychological. And I needed my brain right.
This was my mental strategy:
Know that this state of being is not permanent and is entirely changeable. Yes, this is a problem but I am not a victim. I caused the current state, I can change it.
This must be sustainable. But more importantly, I need to want to do this. You don’t do things you don’t want to do.
Restrictive diets and trendy fitness fads are unworkable. I’m not even going to bother trying them. There are no shortcuts.
I need to reprogram my mind in order to facilitate all of this. I need to become intimately aware of how body and mind intersect so I can rewire my thoughts to align with the physical needs of this process.
Replace the bad habits with new habits. I am an addict by nature. Let the addiction I choose be useful.
I will need to reward myself for progress and not beat the crap out of myself when experiencing setbacks. Again, this is a life-long process which needs to flow and psyching myself out will not help.
Self-depreciation may work with my sense of humour, but I will not be ashamed to acknowledge that I am becoming more attractive, healthy, and happy.
Out of all of these, #4 is the focus of this blog. The first three are right out of Bill W.’s book. You know you have a problem, you know that things you’ve tried heretofore haven’t worked. You need enough faith to jump off the cliff and know that you’re not gonna splat Wile-E.-Coyote style off the mesa.
Rewiring your brain takes a great deal of stubbornness, intention, and self-knowledge. You have to know how your mind works. Depression is a pain in the ass, but it sure taught me a lot about my mind. I’d dare say that being a mental patient grants some advantages at times.
Rewiring and crossing the wires of my brain to search for pleasure is weird to write about. It almost feels like Scientology*. It’s not easy to quantify into words. Fortunately, I have a place to note it all down.
And it’s amazing that all of this came to fruition because I couldn’t shove my fat ass into a seat on a rollercoaster.
At this point, as a middle-aged man who dealt with mental illness for most of his life…if I can do this, you can do this. I hope that in this Substack I can explain what worked for me, in hopes that it will work for you.
+++
Epilogue: I should mention that later that year in November, we went back to Great Adventure shortly after Halloween. And during that trip, I went back to the Batman roller coaster. And when I went on the ride—in the same row I attempted months previous—I fit in with room to spare. Validation had been achieved.
*L. Ron Hubbard had nothing to do with my bodily recovery.
i love this :) it’s so important that you realized on your own instead of the negative aspects and things you could miss out on by being overweight. i’m sure it was impossible for it not to be anxiety inducing but you were brave enough to go out and better yourself without needed anyone else’s support necessarily. and you’ve stuck with it which has made you an overall happier man. you are able to do so much more than you could before and you are confident enough to do things that you love now. :) you’re such an amazing example of hope
Yeah, I have recently made a change - last couple of months. Part of it was deciding that a goal I would normally say was unattainable is attainable, but because I was looking at it the wrong way.