Hello Future Self,
may sound like a hollow threat, since I’m technically you at an earlier
point in your life, but listen to me and listen good: if you f*ck up
this nice loss I’ve managed to provide for you, I will hunt you down and
I will kill you.
Just how will I accomplish such a seemingly
impossible task, you ask. Look here, you older, more jaded version of
myself with your fancy cell phone the size of my thumbnail. I have faced
insurmountable odds before and managed to get the job done. Remember
way back, when you used to swill coffee all morning and diet sodas all
afternoon? I was the one that
shut that sh*t down. I was the one who brought all this eating-too-much
and exercising-too-little business to a crashing halt. I did it.
Not you. Me.
don’t really know what Future Me is up to these days, but Right Now Me
has lost 75 lbs. and has made some pretty tremendous changes in his
life. If I were you (and let’s not get into that old argument about
whether or not I “am” you… let’s just agree to disagree, shall we?), I
wouldn’t bet against me accomplishing anything I set my mind to.
Which gets me back to my threat. I know
you, Future Me. You have a bad history of taking the hard work of those
who have come before you and squandering it for no apparent rhyme or
reason. I can name at least three occasions where a Past Me has lost a
tremendous amount of weight only to have one of your brothers (the
Future Me’s) thoughtlessly gain it right back.
Not this time. I repeat: NOT. THIS. TIME.
Here’s the thing, Future Me. Every time you do that… every time you gain the weight back, you make it that
much harder for the Next Me to do anything about it. You make it hard
to care about the Future Me’s, since they have so little regard for the
Future “Future Me’s.”
I have done the heavy lifting, my
future-dwelling friend. I have packed up and left Obese City, and I’m
passing on to you all the tools you’ll ever need to continue on with the
good work I’ve started. I want you to read this letter regularly,
because it’s vitally important that you’re aware of what’s at stake… and
just what the consequences are.
Your life is on the line, brother. Gain the pounds back and it won’t be your body that kills you.
It’ll be me.
Speaking of time-travel: it’s time for me to travel. My wife Anita and I are hopping on a jet today and sneaking off to Cancun for a few days of fun in the sun. I was going to be productive and write a bunch of posts and pre-load them, but was too busy being unproductive and not writing a bunch of posts and pre-loading them. Anyway, I grabbed some crap from the every-expanding archive and threw it up there to tide us over next week. Adios, suckers!