Episode IV: A New Hope

Hi everyone -

I'm not arrogant enough to believe that everyone in the world (or even my world) will want to read this, but it feels like a good time to start a blog all for myself.  For those of you out there wondering about the title of this blog (or for those who didn't notice it: 'Farewell to Lars'), a brief explanation: for a long time - possibly as long as I can remember, or at least up until I've blocked out - I have been overweight.  Sometimes seriously so, as I am now; other times, just inconveniently so, such as in high school, where I couldn't seem to keep off the weight despite playing two varsity sports.  In any case, when I went to college, I - along with so many of my frosh companions - gained the dreaded 'Freshman 15,' but such was my gallantry and loyalty to friends, that I gained some of my friends' Freshman 15s, as well, leading to a total gain of something approaching 60 pounds my freshman year.  Yikes.

By the age of 25, I was what the medical profession refers to as 'morbidly obese.'  (they say this as though having the word 'obese' attached to one's self-description is not morbid enough.)  Despite some serious effort, and some half-hearted ones, I remained in this category, wondering if I'd ever be able to shake the extra pounds and live the life I wanted to live.  Apparently, you just can't be a professional stuntperson with all that extra poundage, nor will Team USA softball grant you a callback after tryouts if your weight is higher than the entire team's ages added together.  Upon these realizations, I decided that it was time to get serious about losing the weight - that was the easy part.  I have to give a shout out at this juncture to my good friend and - dare I say it? - mentor, Morgan Murphy ('MM'), who will no doubt be a legend in her own time.  Morgan has a joie de vivre that transcends the silliness of the phrase itself - she takes life by the horns, takes no prisoners, and is fierce in her devotion both to her friends and to the causes she has adopted as her own (notably, LGBT rights in general, and DC statehood rights specifically).  Morgan, you're my heroine.

I met the Divine Miz M (sorry, Bette) in the law library at school, and we struck up a conversation as if we had been friends forever.  We made the requisite trip to Starbucks to continue our talk, and it quickly became apparent that we were going to be close friends.  Anyway, to make a long story short, we got on the subject of the weight-loss surgery that MM had undergone the previous year, and the incredible impact it had (and continues to have) on her life.  As we talked, I began to feel something like Indiana Jones does in that moment when he walks into the room of Holy grails in The Last Crusade - something was pulling at me, challenging my spirit and conviction, and I knew I was about to be tested.  Over the course of the next few months, and many more conversations with MM, I realized that I had found what I had been looking for: a way to lose the weight I hated so much, with minimal risk of failure, and all the reason in the world to believe.

I went home and talked to my dear partner, Susanne, and she agreed so readily to the whole cockamamie plan (name that quote: 'Cockamamie.  That's a word your generation hasn't embraced yet.  Maybe you ought to use it once in a while...just to keep it alive.'  But I digress...) that I knew it had to be the right thing to do.

Now, I'm sure you're wondering what the heck this all has to do with someone named Lars, but if you'll be patient, I assure you, I'm getting to it.  Once I got to my current weight, I used to joke that the extra 100+ or so pounds I was carrying around was my 'spare 2nd grader,' who I later named (only to myself) 'Lars.'  Not sure why I decided on that name, except it's possible that I had just seen Lars and the Real Girl (a fantastic film) and the name just spoke to me.  Anyway, since this blog is about my journey out of obesity, morbid or otherwise, I decided that Farewell to Lars was perfect - didn't give away too much of the plot right off the bat, keeps the readers interested, and was virtually guaranteed to be available when trying to find a name on blogspot.  Success in all three arenas, I hope.

Now, to the title of this post: taken, of course, from the first Star Wars movie, 'A New Hope' is exactly what I find myself holding on this, the fourth day after my weight-loss surgery.  My surgeon, Dr. Jacobo Zafrani, is a wonderful man and he said to me that I would never regret the decision to do what I did - so far, he's absolutely right.  I've lost 12 lbs in the five days I've been here, and it already feels incredible.  More on the specifics of the surgery for later posts, but that's the rundown.  If you've made it this far, thank you.  If not, no worries.  Just know that life is beautiful, and when you stop to try and figure it out, it can get too scary.  I jumped into this with both feet, and I couldn't be happier.  Hopefully, you will enjoy taking this journey with me, because I know I'll enjoy riding it out.  Either way, though, the farewell has begun - Lars, you're on notice, my friend.  In a year's time, I suspect we'll have to end our association.  To paraphrase one of the greatest cinematic pas de deux's in history, 'I think this could be the [end] of a beautiful friendship.'