My Name Is Jasper

Godiva

Come save me from the burning,

Ride against these dire times

Versus all apathy and disregard

Yielding new hope to all the fallen ones

To all the Silenced, to those Unheard

Godiva – Heaven Shall Burn (28)

Dear god, I have man boobs! The touchscreen of my laptop casts an unforgiving reflection. Its judgement is swift as it is cruel: "Jasper, you have become fat." I stare through the open windows of my desktop and look at this topless 29 year old guy, enjoying the first summer days. Awkwardly, I realize my man boobs are big enough to squeeze. This is horrible. Quick, straighten your back, put your chest up, and work those muscles... I surrender, and quickly put my t-shirt back on.

Wait a minute... This is my patio, if I want to enjoy the first real rays of sun, I can! You have no idea how much I craved for this weather after the worst winter ever in North America (at least that is what they tell me). I almost tear the shirt from my body. There!

I stare at my reflection again. And with one eye I scan the windows of the buildings around me. Why do I care if anyone is watching? It is stupid, but I do care. "Vanity, definitely my favourite sin." (29) Julie, relaxed on the longchair [sic] looks up from her book, perfectly reading my mind. "You are so handsome baby." Did I already tell you she is amazing? "I have man boobs," I counter. "You look great." Her tone confirming this is the end of the discussion. No place for self-pity.

When I tell people I want to lose 10lbs, they always reply: "You? You don't need to lose weight". I usually reply that I gained 20lbs in a few months after moving to Canada. Burgers and doughnuts. And heavenly pecan butter tarts. Canada made me fat.

"If you feel fat, you made yourself fat. Don't blame Canada" Julie, of course, is right. And she takes even the slightest hint of criticism of the True North personal. With glowing heart she stands on guard for her home and native land. "Cut me and I'll bleed maple syrup." Yup, she's serious.

The main reason I gained weight is that before I moved to Canada I would play hours of korfball 3 to 4 days a week, and now I play 2hrs of soccer tops. And yes, doughnuts may have a played a role too... But they are so good!

I was actually starting to get back in good shape a few months ago. I was eating healthy and went for many runs every week. The last few months were not as healthy though. Moving in with Julie, lots of travel, and a Mexican wedding. I strayed from the path of recovery to my pre-Canadian days' shape, which was painfully obvious when I visited a friend in San Francisco.

I had arrived at his place after a much delayed flight from Seattle, when the midnight hour had come and gone. Naturally, we didn't hit the sack until after we'd enjoyed some of the finer San Francisco craft brews. The sharp rise of craft beer in North America, it is unparalleled. Beyond hype, but we'll talk more about beer later.

The next morning my jetlag wakes me some 90 minutes before my alarm would. I see David getting ready in the kitchen of his fantastic apartment. "Hey Jasper, I'm going for a run. I'll be back in an hour and then we can go to work together?" In a flash of undeserved confidence I shout out "Challenge accepted!" and jump out of my bed and into my gym clothes. "I'll join you." I was awake for less than 1 minute. "Great!"

As we are walking down the stairs Dave tells me he has this 'sweet daily run' that we'll do. Shit. Daily run? In San Francisco, a city built on hills? Hills so steep that if you order a tea on a patio, the cup automatically spills over by just sitting on the table. I kid you not, the hills are ridiculously steep. No doubt about it, Dave is in great shape. This will be a battle I cannot win. Apologetic I tell Dave I'll do my best to keep up, admitting it has been weeks since my last workout. "No worries," Dave smiles, "I'll slow down".