As many of you have done, urged by this here wonderful blog, I now present a letter I wrote to my body. I meant to write it on pen and paper, but then realized I had no paper in my house. 2008 is weird.

Dear vessel,

What did you think of that red pepper fritatta last night? Sumptuous, no? Especially with the chili glaze and fresh parmigiano-reggiano. Following yesterday’s yoga session and 7-mile run, it was nice to fill my mouth with something so natural to combat the woozy feeling I was having from not eating enough earlier in the day. And since I brought it up, I’m sorry I underfeed you sometimes, but there’s a very good reason. In case you haven’t noticed there’s a lot less of you these days and sometimes I get a little carried away.

I find it somewhat fair that you have failed me throughout our endeavors to get pregnant because for the first 16 years of my life I failed you daily. I know I labored you with an extra 260 pounds and deprived you of essential nutrients in favor of Doritos and bologna. Sitting around on the sofa watching “Saved By The Bell” when I should have been out hitting baseballs or shooting hoops. You owed me one and I don’t deny you your rights to retribution.

But that was a 13 years ago and during those subsequent years I have slimmed, toned, gone organic, and provided you every health boost I could think of to make you a better, healthier entity. So I’m calling for a truce. Pure and simple, no strings attached – you forgive me, I forgive you. I will stop looking at the extra skin that never tones or firms, no matter how far I run or how many crunches I do, as your manipulative way to keep me somewhat loathsome of my physique. I will stop looking at my bald head and the hair-filled heads of those around only to wonder why there is nothing there to brush. I will stop looking at the slender, waifish bodies of my male friends only to drop my broad shoulders and attempt to shrink my 6′4″ frame.

The former me, the one that was so fat and so unhealthy, will never disrespect you again. You have my word, and I’m sorry.

But you’ve got to agree to your part. All I want from you is to keep me healthy, to give me a long, able-bodied life with my beautiful wife, and to give us one measly, entirely healthy baby. Just one. Two if you’re feeling generous, but one will do. I will keep icing myself and taking the cocktail to keep you happy, but you have to do your part and keep producing everything vital for us to conceive. Aside from that, I just want health. I want to keep running until I’m at least 75 and I want to be active until I’m at least 90 – and I want a baby.

Forgiveness doesn’t require you to forget the ill I’ve cause you, or vice-versa. Forgiveness means being capable of coexisting with me without hatred or constant regret and grudge. I wanna be big and let go of this grudge that’s grown old. Are you with me?

Love,
Matt

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