Page 40 of Brick Wall
Sebastian
“This problem has never happened to me before. What do you think I should do about it?” I confess to my best friend Calvin in an empty weight room at our training facility.
“Just have the doc prescribe you the little blue pill,” Cal retorts.
“What?” I stop in my tracks to look him in the eyes, where there’s a smirk on his face.
“You’re a little young for the problem, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Calvin’s smirk turns into a full grin now.
“Shut it. You know exactly what problem I’m talking about.”
“It’s not a big deal. It happens to guys all the time. You still have some time,” Calvin states.
“Not really. Thanks for trying to console me, but you suck at it.”
“I try my best,” Cal says with a little shove to my right arm as he leaves the complex.
I stay put for a minute while I cool down from my workout.
Training camp is well underway, but it’s not going my way, at least so far.
Here’s the thing. There are two types of offensive linemen in the league: the ones who must artificially add the pounds and the ones that are naturally big. I’m the latter. My best friend and Boston Revs center, Calvin, is the former.
Cal has a daily meal plan designed by a professional to help optimize his weight. He sets an alarm in the middle of the night for a protein shake to ensure that he makes weight and isn’t too light.
If an offensive lineman doesn’t stay in their weight range during the season, they can get fined eight hundred dollars per pound per day. It can add up and I’d hate to give my employer any unnecessary funds.
Most offensive lineman eat over five thousand calories a day, sometimes much more. I usually aim for that, although it can be more, depending on the day. I don’t often keep track.
I’ve always been the biggest in my class, even at a young age. However, when I turned thirteen, my dad passed away suddenly. Life was hectic for my mom, trying her best to parent and provide for three depressed kids. We ate a lot of fast food, quick meals, and junk food, especially the first few years after my dad passed.
By the time I was a senior in high school, I was already over three hundred pounds. I was a dream offensive lineman for my high school coach and an easy recruit for college. I had multiple offers for full scholarships at division one football programs.
I’ve been very thankful for the position I’ve been in, and I usually have zero guilt in eating food because I know I needto be big for my career. I make millions of dollars for being enormous. I’ve never really minded eating more food for my job and never struggled to stick between my weight range.
Until now.
At the start of training camp, I was informed I was twenty pounds over my weight limit. No big deal, it happens in the off-season sometimes to players. Last season I gained ten, and I could quickly get back down to weight, especially since training camp can be an extensive workout as is.
I was a little upset at the news, but I’ve gained weight in the off-season before. I can get back into my weight range before the season officially kicks off.
However, I’m not losing weight fast enough.
Hence, my little problem I was telling Calvin about a few minutes ago.
We did another weigh in a few minutes prior and I was still fifteen pounds away from making weight, and I only have two weeks left before the season officially begins. I need to get in better shape, and fast.
I’ve been arriving earlier and staying later, and those pounds are harder to lose now that I’m not getting any younger.
Maybe I should retire.
At thirty-one? You still have a few good years left.
I can and will do it. It’s just a little roadblock.
Before I can get even more in my head, my phone pings from the bench next to me.
I grab my phone and notice a new text message from Annie.
