I've never been in shape. I grew up overweight. I spoke to my mother about it a month or so before she passed away and she told me she harbored some guilt that she felt it was partially her fault. Whereas she allowed my brother, who is two years older than I, to play outside unsupervised early on, I was sent in front of the television as I was too young to do the same.
The differences between my brother and me were rather evident at a young age. I guess that is part of the reason we butted heads so much. That and we shared a lot of activities and ran with widely overlapping circles of friends. Often in high school people would express surprise that we were in fact brothers.
Anyhow, there I was. The fat one. I remember attempting to lose some of my 113 pounds when I was in grade school. My parents were always concerned about my health and encouraged me to try to get into shape. I was active enough. I eventually got old enough to play outside, ride a bike, swim in the pool, play baseball and other games with my friends, but I still had a relatively sedentary lifestyle and I never practiced very healthy eating habits. I played basketball and football in junior high, and I was in the marching band all through high school. I excelled at schoolwork, and never really had to study all that hard to do so.
I believe I peaked at XL size and upwards of 250 pounds when I was graduating high school. College was probably closer to 280. 5 years later, I was pushing 325. That was a pretty frightening realization. I went through some rough times, ending a bad engagement, losing my mother and grandfather to cancer, struggling with and dropping out of medical school after being convinced for a majority of my life that I was going to be a doctor. I sought food as a comfort for all these things. I ate when I was bored. I ate when I hadn't eaten recently. I didn't really need an excuse, but it was easy enough to dig one up. Regardless, I was pretty clearly out of control.
Last year, I put my foot down and decided that at 325 pounds, enough was enough. I was going to get in shape or die trying. I asked my friend, John, who had served in the army as a ranger for 6 years and had always been big into fitness, to help me come up with a workout regimen that would get me where I needed to go. I followed it fairly well for a bit. I enjoyed a modicum of success, but I didn't stick with it and let myself go for another year. In May of this year, I decided that it was time to stop fucking around and get this shit in gear. I went to weight watchers for the fourth or fifth time in my life.
What to say
2 days ago