Over the years I’ve written, rewritten and deleted a lot of content on the problem of being skinny-fat. Most recently I examined the common pitfalls that perpetuate skinny-fattedness in the article: why you’re still skinny-fat.
Which raises an awkward question — the skinny-fat elephant in the room.
If I understand the problem so well… why am I still skinny-fat?
The answer is of course multifactorial. But firstly I do think I have a good theoretical understanding of the subject — not in spite of my enduring failure to transform my own physique, but because of it. Failure teaches us a lot, especially about what not to do.
The reason I’m still struggling with this problem after nearly 15 years of training is partly because I’ve fallen victim to many of the traps I outlined in that article.
Though it’s probably worth clarifying that I’m not really skinny-fat anymore.
At nearly 100kg (at 6’2) I’ve probably passed beyond even skinny-FAT and drifted into something closer to just… fat. But my skinny-fat origins are still obvious in the way my body fat is distributed. I just get moobier moobs, doughier love handles and a fat ass.
But I digress. – There is something else at work that has perpetuated my transformation failure. And this isn’t just an attempt to offload blame or dodge accountability. The truth is that I’ve been quite unwell for a long time. Recently I’ve talked about how I’m never going to get anywhere with any of my goals unless I stop trying to build on a cracked foundation and finally prioritise fixing my health. Up to this point I’ve mostly focused on the physical side of the equation. My fatigue, brain fog and lethargy have obviously sabotaged my training over the years. But my OCD has been equally damaging.
I would describe my particular brand of OCD as bad, but there have definitely been periods where it was severe. In the context of my training it has manifested as a debilitating compulsion around routines — specifically a never-ending search for the perfect workout routine. If that doesn’t sound serious then you are probably fortunate enough not to be an OCD sufferer. (I’ll explore OCD in more detail in a future article, including my other compulsions and the strategies I use to manage them.)
The impact has been that for the last ten years or so I have changed my workout routine weekly. Sometimes multiple times per week. Or at my worst – daily. In fact there have been times where I have had to stop mid-workout and rehash a new routine before continuing. And not just in my head either – I usually feel compelled to physically write out the entire new program, either on my phone, computer or paper.
Unfortunately I also have a similar compulsion around nutrition, though to a lesser extent.
Am I counting calories or not?
How many?
Am I following a specific diet or not?
Similarly I can obsess about and change my approach multiple times per week sometimes.
Ask any jacked athlete and they’ll tell you one of the open secrets to success is simply consistency.
I have had anything but that throughout my twenties. And the chaos of my OCD riddled training and nutrition has not been conducive to meaningful progress.
So why don’t I just stop?
A question like that betrays the ignorance of someone who isn’t personally familiar with OCD. And yet it’s also painfully accurate. Because ultimately the only way to recover from OCD is to stop performing the compulsions. And yet that’s paradoxically the hardest thing in the world to do when you’re in the midst of it. And what’s particularly diabolical about OCD is that the compulsions do arise from a seemingly constructive place. It is a defence mechanism of an anxious brain.
In my case I’ve been a lifelong anxiety sufferer, and transforming my skinny-fat genetics into an athletic physique has been a long-standing ambition. Because it matters so much to me, the possibility of failing at it creates anxiety. My brain then obsesses over the source of that anxiety — which only generates more of it — and eventually it looks for an escape. So it creates a ritual to relieve the anxiety. In my case that ritual is endlessly optimising my workout routine according to whatever new idea or goal has taken hold.
The relief is temporary.
Soon the anxiety returns.
And the cycle repeats.
And that is OCD in a nutshell.
It reveals a simple truth:
You can’t build a physique on a routine that constantly changes.
Now of course it’s easy to say that this time will be different.
I’ve said that before — and meant it at the time too.
But recognising that my behaviour wasn’t constructive optimisation but compulsive OCD has helped break the hypnotic spell a little. Awareness creates a small mental buffer.
I still have work to do on that front.
But that’s a story for another post.
Because the truth is — this obsession with routines is actually one of the milder ways my OCD has affected my life.
In the meantime I have committed to a training routine that is tailored to fixing skinny-fat based on my experiences with what does and doesn’t work. And I will not change it for the rest of the year!
Cheers,
Remy.
Toomanymind 