Poke Poke

There is no way to sugar coat it – I got fat and unhealthy.

One day, one of my clients came up to me, looked me straight in the eye, and poked me in my belly. She said: “This is getting out-of-control, Mister,” and walked away.

A few weeks later, she poked me in the belly again and didn’t say a word.

This went on for about six to nine months.

Every so often, she would approach me, poke me in the belly, and I would laugh and she would smile.

I clearly knew what she was doing – she was telling me to get my act together.

I could keep lying to myself, telling myself that my clients hire me for my brains and not my looks, so it’s okay if I was fat.

My athletes are jacked, strong, and in great shape! Shit, I’m known for training some of the fittest and strongest athletes around.

I kept on telling myself: “As long as I’m strong, I’m good.” I bench 400lbs, pull 550lbs, and squat 500lbs, so I don’t need to lose weight.

I would tell one of Charlie Francis’ favourite jokes:

“What’s the difference between a personal trainer and a strength coach? The personal trainer looks fitter than the clients, and the strength coach’s athletes are fitter than the coach!”

I would put these thoughts in my head because I was making excuses for myself.

After I squatted 500lbs, a weight I haven’t hit in a long time, I vividly remember my sister writing on my Instagram video: “Bro? What’s up with that belly?”

She totally disregarded the fact that I was moving some heavy weight on my back.

A few days later, my Mom calls me to say she was concerned. She saw the video of the same squat on Facebook, and instead of congratulating me, she said: “Son, you belly is too big and it doesn’t look good.”

I tried to explain to her that I’m not a personal trainer, that I don’t need a six-pack and people hire me for my brains and not the way I look. But she wasn’t having it. She said: “It doesn’t matter. You’re in the fitness business, and it doesn’t look good.”

She was right.

I felt ashamed.

But I was still stubborn and told myself that my clients didn’t care. I’m well-known and fuck anyone who doesn’t like it!

My son and daughter would rub my belly and play drums on my belly. At first, I thought it was cute, but then it started to bother me. My boy would smack my belly, and laugh: “Dada belly!”

Still, I refused to change.

But one Saturday, after a good workout, I walked into the changeroom to take a shower and I took off my shirt, turned around, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I stared at my belly for what seemed to be about thirty minutes. I almost came to tears because I realized I had been lying to myself. “Clance, this isn’t you… how could you let yourself get this bad?”

From that moment on, this determination and drive grabbed hold of me, and I drove straight home and dumped out all of the alcohol in the house down the drain.

In that one moment, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I said: “This has to stop, and it will stop today.”

I’m now training everyday, 237 days without a drop of alcohol, and changed my eating lifestyle.

I’m grateful for friends like her, and family who had the courage & honesty to tell me straight, seeded the inception I needed to get back on the right path.