Two years ago...

Two years ago, I stepped into Weight Watchers and signed up for the 5th or 6th time in my life. I had every hope that this time would be different than all those other failed attempts, but no real reason to actually believe it'd happen this time. The program works, I knew that walking in; I just struggled in the past with sticking with it. I'd get bored or frustrated or just fed up with being mindful of what I was eating and I'd quit. I was ready to give it another shot and anxious to see where I had gotten myself, having avoided scales for a full year since my last time quitting Weight Watchers. I knew I was going to be higher than the 325 I was at last time, but I was shocked to see 358.2 pounds: by far, I was in the worst shape of my life at 28 years old.

After the meeting, I sat down with my leader to discuss my goals and was told that, according to the BMI scale, I should be at maximum 179 pounds. That is exactly half the weight I was when I started this weight loss journey. I shook my head and frankly said "I'll never be able to get that low." She told me not to worry about it, that I should set smaller goals (like 10%, a whopping 35.8 pounds, 5 more than I'd ever lost in my life), that my doctor could sign a note if I wanted to maintain a weight higher than 179. I felt a bit overwhelmed, but wound up choosing 225 as my goal weight. I've never in my adult life been that low. By the time I finished growing up to the 5'11" (really? I couldn't have just grown that one last inch?) that I am today, I was already over 250 pounds.

There are commercials on the radio from time to time hocking some diet drug that ends with the tag line "get high school skinny." Well, fuck you fad diet advertisers. I've never been skinny. Not in college, not in high school, not in middle school, not even in grade school.

Two years ago, I was a completely different man. I snored heavily. I had severe back pain just trying to turn over in bed. I was wearing size 3X shirts and size 48 jeans, both of which were fairly tight and unflattering. I was a hot mess, but I was willing to do something about it. That was two years ago.

I don't recognize that guy anymore. I've lost over 130 pounds. I'm now just 2.6 pounds away from hitting that final goal of 225 pounds I'd set for myself on day 1. I'm not where I want to be yet, but the fact that I'm almost there is just incredible. I've come a long way in 2 years. I'll hit it, celebrate casually, go skydiving with some friends later this summer, then press on until I find the weight I intend to maintain.

I know I haven't posted in a while. I know a lot of you have been commenting on my last post asking where I am, how I'm doing, assuring me that no matter how bad it's gotten, I've got support in this community. I want you all to know those comments haven't fallen on deaf ears. I appreciate all of the encouragement, truly (especially the comment I got from BornSquishy).

So what's been happening? Well, I struggled with my eating and my exercise and gained about 20 pounds in 2 months. I went through some rough realizations about my relationship with my fiancee and parted ways with her. I finally broke out of the ranks of the unemployed; I've been working in my field now for 2 months. I got back on the wagon and lost all 20 of those pounds I'd gained in less than half the time it'd taken me to gain them. I ran a 3.51-mile obstacle course race with some friends in Texas (more on that tomorrow).

I'm on track to hit that 225-pound goal within the next couple of weeks, depending on how things go this coming week. I can't wait to share that success with yall.