Brian D. Mains

So it goes . . .

Recent Posts

  • Monday Morning Musing: What is the meaning of this?

    Monday Morning Musing: What is the meaning of this?

    When I was an adolescent, I thought my adult self would have life all figured out. I’d be wealthy and successful. I wasn’t clear on exactly what career I’d be working in, but I just assumed I’d be good at my chosen profession.

    A lot of that thought was born out of the myth that every adult had their lives together. No adult ever admitted they, too, still struggled with insecurities, doubt and were “making it up” as they went along.

    Perhaps it was better that way. I’m not sure my awkward, overweight self could have handled the truth.

    All I had to do was make it until I was 20. Yes, 20. That is what being an “adult” looked like at a young age.

    Little did I know that my 20s would be a tumultuous age full of fun and heartache, but nowhere near being an “adult.”

    My 30s were good. I settled into doing adult things. I purchased a house, had a profession (though maybe not the one I intended), started running marathons and felt relatively at peace with myself.

    I thought the final piece of that puzzle clicked into place when I met my now wife at age 40.

    I turn 45 this year.

    And I’m like, wait, what the fuck. Where did all the time go?

    My parents are getting old(er). I’m not losing weight as fast as I once did. My knees feel stiff before and shortly after I finish a run.

    After a year of working from home due to the pandemic, I’m also left thinking, “Is this it? Is this all life is? A continuous march of repeating the same day over-and-over again until death or retirement? Is there anything new to experience? Any new joys to find . . . or challenges?”

    I mean, I’ve kind of gotten used to having some of the same old insecurities and doubts I had for as long as I remember. At least experience has helped me temper my response to them when they flare up . . . but come on.

    I then get annoyed because I hate cliches and my current state feels like a cliche.

    AM I EXPERIENCING A MID-LIFE CRISIS?

    🤢

    🤢

    Looking back at my near past, I can state that instead of buying a high-end sports car, I purchased a mid-range priced camera to mix things up a bit.

    I have regularly returned to creativity throughout my life, be that through writing my thoughts in a blog or taking pictures, to understand and/or reinvent myself.

    That’s something right?

    I never thought a mid-life crisis would feel monotonous, but it does. I believe it is because I still hold the bogus notion of a child . . . one that believes I should have everything and everything should be figured out by now.

    I have a lot of experience and understanding, but that does not mean my story is done. My current mood indicates that I still have a lot to learn about being content.

    I just have to be more willful and focus on the following chapters of my life.

    I know those chapters will include plot twists outside of my control, loss, heartbreak, but I also hope fun and awe-inspiring discovery if I play my cards right.

  • Try, Try Again

    Try, Try Again

    crop kid weighing on scale
    Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com

    Health

    I stepped on the bathroom scale today and did not like what I saw staring back at me. I now weigh 210 pounds, which is a lot of weight for my 5-foot-7-inch frame to carry.

    I am 44 and this is more than what I have ever weighed in my entire life. That is stating a lot.

    I began struggling with my weight while in elementary school. The weight gain then, much like now, was triggered by stress.

    My maternal grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer while I was in the fifth grade. He died by the end of my sixth-grade year of school.

    My mom was an only child. She did have a half-sister through her father’s previous marriage, who was a few years older than her, but my grandfather’s primary care fell to my mom.

    Also, my mom’s mom, my grandmother, did not drive. So, I went on plenty of trips to doctors and treatments with my mom and grandfather during that time.

    I grew up a lot and ate a lot due to my feelings and gained a lot of weight.

    Two years after my grandfather died, and a lot of middle school bullying, I stopped eating to lose all the weight I gained. My mom and dad worried. I had traded in one obsession, eating all the time, with not eating at all.

    I got skinny in high school. Then the cycle of weight gain began again when I entered college. I started going to parties and drinking. My freshman year dorm roommate smoked cigarettes, so I started smoking cigarettes too.

    I went through a tumultuous relationship that resulted in moving halfway across the country, going to graduate school and then getting married for six months before my wife filed for divorce.

    Long-ish story short, after the trauma of that situation, I moved back home to the Greater Cincinnati area. I quit smoking, curtailed drinking alcohol, discovered I enjoyed marathon training and used a smartphone app to manage my caloric intake and again lost a lot of weight.

    But at least I was healthy. That’s what I told myself anyway. I did put four stress fractures on my tibia the first season I trained to run a marathon because I tried to do too much too fast.

    And now, going back to the beginning of this post where I confessed I weigh more than I ever have.

    After completing 15 marathons, numerous half-marathons and averaging more than 1,000 miles running a year for eight years, I burned out and backed off on the intensity. I kept eating and drinking as I always had, though.

    Then the pandemic happened. I quit running and now work alone from home, where I read the news and stress myself out regularly.

    The funny thing about this current cycle, though, is this: Three years ago, a woman drew me to her the moment I met her. We bought a house together last year and got married in our backyard this past August.

    In turn, I sold the house I owned for 13 years, paid off all debt and socked some cashback in savings with the money I made off of it.

    I am sharing all of this here because, well, this is my blog. And another constant of the ups-and-downs in my life cycles is this: Writing and sharing my feelings helps me when I get like this.

    I could do it in a personal journal, but that is not how writing works for me. I am a writer by trade. By not putting my words out into the ether, my struggles feel dirty, dark little secrets if they do not see the light. And yes, I want the audience and community interaction.

    It is good to know you are not alone.