This Is Going To Be Good

Although blogging is new for me, I've been writing weekly since 2001.

My career has moved us often. It started with a Christmas letter and turned into a weekly address to stay connected with family and friends. I published a weekly letter until we returned from China in June 2011. At that point my writing became very sporadic, linked mainly to the few highs in my life, but mostly long silent lows. Although I didn't recognize it at the time, I had entered a long slide into depression. Feeling crushed by life and circumstance, I took pleasure and solace in food and started to shut out life around me.



Sunday, April 7,2013. I have made a decision: I will have weight loss surgery.



Five little words: I have made a decision. It can also read: I will take control. It also means: I assume responsibility. And certainly in my case: enough is enough.The six words that follow are meaningless without the first five. The decision is the foundation of my life transformed.

This morning as I looked through years of my own words I was struct by the constant tension and struggle to reconcile the person I'd become with the person I'd been against the person I wanted to be. Like a muddy river flowing through my life, my weight was a constant reminder of abandoned dreams and failure. Not that my life was all desperation; I have a wonderful wife and family. In many respects my life is full and rich beyond measure. Still there was always an undercurrent swirling around me. Sometimes in the distance; sometimes nearly drowning me.

For the first time in many years I can look at the new year with eager anticipation. I no longer lament the past peaks and glories never to be relived, but look forward to life without limits. The life I've dreamed of for so long is now my reality. For the past six months I've focused on weight loss. It has been an incredible experience, but weight loss surgery is just a tool to get me where I want to be. My goal all along has not been smaller jeans, but life without limits. It's time to go outside and live.

This is going to be good!

Necessary & Productive

I've got big plans for the New Year.

Significant weight loss is only of my post surgery plan. The big plans; the plan for the New Year; the plan from the beginning has always been life without limits.

Today I got an early start. Today I went for a run; 4.1 miles at a leisurely pace. Not far, not fast, but enough to see if all the moving parts are moving in sync. So far, so good. My knees appear to have borne the burden with no undue wear. No aspirin. No ice. Nice.

Tomorrow, after a morning workout, my day is given over to shopping for jeans at Coldwater Creek (for Michelle) and returning Christmas decorations to storage in Anacortes. A little more pedestrian than today, but necessary and productive.

The Second Half of My First Year

It's a post Christmas miracle; I'm in a women's large!

Don't ask how I know, just believe me when I tell you it's true.

No, I'm not a cross-dresser. This morning Michelle was going through her clothes and found a sweater too big for her shrinking frame; nice problem. She jokingly tossed it to me and asked if it would fit. Before she could say just kidding, I'd slipped it on to find it fit better than most the clothes in my closet. That's how I know a woman's large fits just right.

Christmas was crazy busy and wonderful. I missed a few days from my blog, but now I'm back. I am really excited about the coming year, and the second half of my first year post weight loss surgery. I am looking forward to the future in a way I haven't in years. I am optimistic and excited and ready to move forward.

On with the New Year!

Not Even Close

As I approach the first big goal of my weight loss surgery – I’m down 97 pounds and closing in on 100 – I am puzzled by the question/response I frequently hear: How much weight are you going to lose? And, you don’t want to lose too much?

I understand the first question. I’m curious too. My quick response is as much as I can. I have a number in mind, but my body will make the decision on its own. My eating patterns have stabilized and at some point my body’s metabolic equation (food/exercise/excess/loss) will stabilize as well. It will happen naturally. My days of dieting in the traditional sense are over. Diets didn't work before. I see no reason that forced acts of deprivation, which can’t be maintained, would work for me now.  

The second part, you don’t want to lose too much has me somewhat baffled. This morning I weighed two hundred ten pounds, a long way from skin & bones by anyone’s standard. If someone is dealing with cancer no one ever says don’t take too much, it’s always did the doctor get it all? Concerning weight loss and my health, I want to get it all. I've lived life fat and I didn't like it. Forgive me if I error the other way this time.

If I woke up tomorrow and my weight loss stopped; 97 pounds, that’s it. I’d be OK. My life has improved so much in every aspect. I couldn't have guessed the emotional and spiritual wellness that has come with significant weight loss. I don’t understand it. I can’t explain it, but I’m living it. I’m loving it. My goal is to ride this wave until my feet hit the sand and turn around and watch the sun set. I don’t know how much is too much concerning my weight loss, but I know I’m not there yet. I’m not even close.

One Happy Camper

I've reached a milestone in my weight loss journey. Here are a few quick facts:

• 180 days since weight loss surgery
• 94.2 pounds lost so far
• 34" inches lost
• One happy camper who would do it all over again.

Like I said, one happy camper!

It's All Good

Weight loss surgery and significant weight loss isn't all fun and games. Here are a few things I have to deal with on a daily basis.

It used to be everything in my closet was too small. Not any more, virtually every stitch of clothing I own is too big. Michelle says I look like a kid wearing dad’s clothes. I refuse to buy new clothes every ten pounds only to have them not fit in a few weeks. When I hit (and hold) my goal weight, I’ll buy a whole new wardrobe. Until then, my clothes are a mismatched hit-or-miss mess; and they’re too big too.

I used to be a time management expert. I’d make a mental list, check it twice and then tackle stairs like they were the north face of Everest. If I was going to expend the energy necessary for a flight of stairs, I was going to make darn sure I maximized my effort. Now, I run up and down the stairs all willy-nilly. Forget something; so what; I’ll just run back up the stairs like they’re nothing at all. Sometimes I run up and down the stairs for no reason; just because I can. What a waste of time. 

When you’re as big as a water bound mammal (political correctness at work), just suiting up and walking to the pool is a workout. Likewise, I used to break into a sweat just hefting myself up onto an exercise cycle. Now I actually have to swim, peddle or push to get a workout. Sometimes it takes an hour or more. That’s time that doesn't grow on trees.

I used to eat. I used to eat a lot. Some people will say they don’t understand why they’re big because they don’t eat that much. I know why I was big, I ate everything I could chew and swallow.  I was an emotional eater. Get happy; eat. Get sad; eat. Get bored; eat. Celebrate; eat, eat, eat. Eating as much as I did is a big commitment in both time and money. It takes more than a few quick stops for burgers and fries to weigh 320 pounds. It takes commitment, tenacity and a significant investment. Maybe I’ll use that time and money to go shopping for new clothes; just not yet.I joke. 

Actually, that was my home run swing pre-surgery. I'd make a joke and then hide in the back row. It was never funny and I always felt exposed, how ironic. 

Weight loss surgery has changed my life in ways I never could have imagined; all of them good.

It's all good!            

That's It, Done.

Epic workout tonight; spin cycle, rowing machine, and a little quality time in the hot tub. Then home for a late dinner and this day is done.

That's it. Done.

Happy Camper

It's said a picture's worth a thousand words. What do you think?


Me, December 28th, 2012













Me, last Friday.

Can you find the happy camper?


Ninety four pounds and moving forward every day.

What Have I Learned?

I messed up this weekend. It was bound to happen. After all, I am merely human.

Sunday we had a big family dinner; a full blown Thanksgiving style turkey dinner with all the fixings. Before dinner, coincidentally timed to start with the Seahawk’s game, were an assortment of chips, dips and other snacks to tide us over until the main meal. I’d like to say I stuck to my plan. I’d like to, but I can’t.

Here’s the problem: for the first time in 186 days I did not log every bite I ate in my calorie app. 

I logged my breakfast. I logged the cereal bar I ate on the way to church. Once we were home and the snacks started appearing, I stopped. I had good intentions. I thought, I’ll have a few chips and then log what I ate. WRONG. I ate a few chips. Then I ate a few more. Then I ate dinner; a very small and reasonable meal I might add. Then I had a piece of apple pie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When the evening was over and my bloated stomach was nagging me, I thought I should log my intake. Log what? I had long since lost track of how many chips, dip, shrimp and other nibbles and bits I ate. I knew what I ate for dinner. I could figure the pie and ice cream, but all the nibbles and bits? There’s no entry in my food app for, hey stupid, you ate too much!

This morning I woke up with a chip hang-over. I remember these from the old days. I’m pretty in-tune with my body and I know the effects of too much sodium, i.e. salty chips. Today I’m back on the wagon. The protocol of the day: flush, water in, water out, repeat.

What have I learned?

To say I am merely human is too easy; a cop-out. Weight loss surgery is a tool not a cure. No procedure can overcome human nature. I have the tools. I could go back to my old ways and compound failure with self-pity and then more failure. I could, but I wont. 

I have a good plan. No one can execute the plan but me. I know this. For 185 days I have claimed success. I refuse to allow one bad day to sabotage the rest of my life. I have come too far and gain so much that I refuse to look back. My life is in front of me, not behind me. Yesterday’s gone; today is a new opportunity for success.

Simple math tells me my success rate so far is 99.5% (185/186=99.46) I’ll take that and keep marching forward. 

An Amazing Day

Today was an amazing day.

It started with Me, Michelle, Michelle's sister Yvonne, daughter Lindsey Marie and seven granddaughters. Our first stop was a tailgate picnic in the Denny Street parking structure across from McCaw Hall. Grandma Michelle made a pretty fancy spread for a parking garage picnic.

Next was the afternoon performance of the Nutcracker, which was actually quite awesome. After the Nutcracker was a trip to Starbucks for hot chocolate and then on to ice skating at the Seattle Center. I haven't ice skated in years and I'm going to pay for it tomorrow, but totally worth it. After ice skating was dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory; not exactly fine dining, but perfect for seven hungry little girls.





Today was an amazing day. The hope of days like today are what prompted me to have weight loss surgery. Without surgery there would have been no ice skating; at least not for me. To be in the middle of the activity, instead of watching from the outside, is amazing. This is what I've been looking for; working towards; dreaming of for a very long time.



Today was an amazing day.

Moving In The Right Direction

I started this journey not knowing what to expect. Now nearly twenty four weeks post surgery I'm down 93 pounds and still surprised each day.

One of the biggest surprises is the the distance this blog travels. In recent weeks I've logged viewers from Russia, China, Korea, Germany, Great Britain, France and Mexico. I am amazed at the range of the Internet. I'd really like to have a glimpse of the people and places my writing reaches. I appreciate all the comments I receive. If you're 'out there', I'd love to hear from you.    

My weight loss has slowed to a crawl, but I am confident I'll be moving in the right direction soon. I've doubled-down on my workouts, which may explain the slow weight loss: muscle is heavier than fat. Tonight was lap swim and then the spin cycle. Home for a light salmon dinner and I'm done.

Tomorrow's a new day. I can't wait to see what's next.

 

My Lucky Day

Thanksgiving weekend comes to a close.

This weekend was marked by a traditional family feast on Thursday, a trip to Leavenworth WA on Friday, our first annual non-traditional weekend after Thanksgiving Lasagna fest Saturday and today, a surprisingly quiet day. Michelle and her sister felt it was necessary to go to the mall this afternoon, I on the other hand was quite content to be nowhere near the mall.

The highlight of my weekend was a couple of hours with oldest granddaughter, Genesis. She went to Anacortes with me to retrieve Christmas decorations from our storage unit. Along the way we talked about some of our favorite books. I remembered back to her age and the first time I read Dove by Robin Graham; the youngest solo sailor to circumnavigate the world at sixteen. I knew there was a used book store in Anacortes, so on a whim we went looking for the book Dove. Not only did they have a copy, it was hardcover and on sale for half price; my lucky day.

My good fortune was to spend the afternoon with my granddaughter. The evening with seven of my granddaughters and the weekend surrounded by family.

Like I said, I'm a lucky guy.    

No Reason For Fear

Thanksgiving is saved!


The meal begins.

Enough is enough.

Can you guess which two are sisters?


I tried a little of each.












It turns out there was no reason to fear. The food was awesome, but just being with family was better. For the first time in my memory I walked away from the Thanksgiving table gratified, satisfied and NOT stuffed to excess.

This has been an incredible year. I have so much to be thankful for; a bunch of them were sitting around the table with me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Change Is Good

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It has been for many years. I can close my eyes and I'm back at grandma's table; the smell of the feast cooking mingling with the aroma of fresh made pies cooling on the counter. The commotion of cousins playing on the floor at the feet of grandpa's big chair. Mom, grandma and the aunties in the kitchen. Football and the seasonal first appearance of the big nutcracker in the living room. And the food, so much food; turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, Brussels sprouts, rolls and butter. And the pies, so many pies; pumpkin, apple, mince, berry and grandma's famous chocolate cream under mounds of whipped cream.

Theses are the memories etched into my very existence.

This year the question I must ask myself, five months post surgery, is Thanksgiving still the Thanksgiving I know and love without the gluttony and excess? Can I enjoy the main meal of the year strategically? Only so much food is going on my salad plate, I must plan carefully and not waste a single bite.

Starting tomorrow, my goal is for family, friends and fellowship to trump food. I can't deny the place food has been in my life, but looking ahead I want change. I need change. I want my life to be about the people and experiences that are important to me and less about the meal.

Change is good.

From the bottom of my heart, Happy Thanksgiving.        

No Place To Be

Today has been the quietest, most laid-back, Sunday afternoon we've experienced in a long time. Home from church, a pot of ham & bean soup on the stove, a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie playing in the background while I listen to some tunes in my headphones. No agenda. No place to be. Just a quiet afternoon; probably the last quiet afternoon we'll have before the pandemonium that is the holiday season.

It all starts tomorrow with the arrival of Michelle's sister, Yvonne and then Thursday my favorite of all holidays, Thanksgiving. Then the Nutcracker with grand babies, Christmas, New Years and and as much fun as we can cram into a six week period. It's going to be great.

First; more music, more nothing, on with the calm.






     

Today Wasn't Normal

Michelle and I hiked the Meadowdale trail again this afternoon.

I say again because last time we tackled the trail was July sixth, I was sixteen days post surgery and I ended up in urgent care sucking three liters of fluids through my right arm - good times. The Meadowdale trail is only a mile and a quarter each way, but it's steep down to the beach and even steeper on the way back up to the parking lot. Today's time was twenty one minutes to the beach and twenty eight minutes back, and that included a couple of photo stops. Best of all, I'm pretty confident there isn't any unscheduled medical treatment in my near future.

A funny thing happened on the way to Meadowdale Beach today. It started pretty normal. We parked the car. We loaded the backpack with water bottles and camera gear. We started down the trail and twenty one minutes later we arrived at the park.  At the picnic area there's an underpass that take you under the train tracks to the beach. Here was the problem. The cut under the tracks also funnels a little creek into Puget Sound. Normally, the creek is little more than a trickle. I guess today wasn't normal.  

The path under the tracks was flooded. Since neither of us was prepared for wading up to our knees, we passed on the beach. As I huffed my way up the hill to the car I couldn't help but think somebody should have been thoughtful enough to place a warning sign at the trail head. A little warning would have been nice considering the motivation for our little exercise was the beach. Actually the motivation was exercise, but the beach is where we were going.

Imagine how silly I felt when we go back to the parking lot and right in front of my face was a sign. A big sign. A big warning sign saying the access tunnel to the beach was closed. Funny, I didn't notice the great big beach closed sign before we spent nearly an hour hiking straight down and them immediately straight back up a stupid hill without accessing the beach. Funny.

                                                Here's the good part, the exercise was awesome all the same.

Big News

I made a startling discovery at the gym this evening. 

A standard bath towel will gird my loins. No longer do I need the jumbo, extra-large, souvenir beach towel to wrap my assets as I walk from the showers to the dressing area. A standard bath towel works just fine; thank you very much.

That may not sound like much, but it’s huge. For years my life has about what fits, not necessarily what I like. Why do designers always assume just because you wear a triple extra-large you want to look like Barney Rubble in a bowling shirt? I can tell you from experience that airline seats and your typical restaurant booth are not designed for ‘real’ men. Nothing is quite as embarrassing as asking your friendly flight attendant for seat belt extension. It’s bad enough you going to spend the next several hours with your bottom-side squeezed like it’s in a vice, first you have to raise your hand and say,

“Hey, over here, I’m too fat for my seat belt.”

   

Of all the positives that come from significant weight loss, and there are many, the ones that make me giddy are things wrapping up in a stand bath towel, tying my shoes without gasping for breath and sliding into a restaurant booth without worrying about cutting of the circulation to my torso.

“Would you be more comfortable at a table?”

I know the waitress meant well, but A) I wasn't sure I could get out of the booth without assistance from the fire department and B) since I was already stuck, there was no sense worrying about it until after dessert.

It’s been five months and ninety one pounds since I had weight loss surgery. My life has changed in more ways than I ever imagined possible. Instead of looking for way to avoid life, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. I have health, hope and optimism for a new day. And, I can wrap-up in a standard bath towel.

That’s big news!

Tempting Fate

Tomorrow night is racquetball.

It's taken a week for my back to straighten and be nearly pain free, so I guess it's time to tempt fate, again.

Actually, that's my home run swing; tempting fate.

Somehow I've ruined Michelle's morning mojo, and it isn't even tomorrow morning yet.

I went to the store this evening this evening and when I returned home, I backed in. I backed in so Michelle could make a speedy get-away in the morning. I backed in thinking I was doing her a favor. I backed in because I thought it as the nice thing to do. Apparently, I've ruined everything. Michelle pulled in forward because the the close proximity to the house shields the windshield from frost. Never mind that I park on the street where my car freezes up like Ice Road Truckers. Last year I would scrape Michelle's windows while my car warmed up; that is until I found out her windows refroze before she left and my efforts were wasted. I don't mind scraping Michelle's windows. Who doesn't like standing in the cold at five in the morning only to have your efforts refreeze before eight?

That's how marriage works. I scrape windows for the fun of it, and Michelle washes my gym clothes. I think I'm getting off easy.

I think I'll go turn her car around before bedtime; no sense tempting fate if I don't have to.



 

Trajectory of Life

Some days aren't so great; days like today.

Fortunately for me, most of my days these days are pretty great. Significant weight loss will do that for a person. So will a great weekend: time with family; a visit to our old church; a quiet lunch just me and Michelle at a little restaurant in Coupeville. These are the people and places that count. A few chips not falling my way on occasion, don't change the trajectory of my life.

Some days aren't so great; so what!

A Pretty Much Almost Great Day

It's been a pretty much almost great day.

Today is my little sister's fiftieth birthday. Happy birthday, Laura!

I'm down 90.4 pounds so far. Yeah!

And, my back is killing me. Boo!

I have chronic back and knee problems. Years of running, skiing and other fitness sports best reserved for fit people, but pursued by a tank like me, have taken their toll. The best benefit of weight loss so far has been the vast reduction in pain. Every morning I get up and my knees rejoice at the reduced load. Last night I played racquetball; today I feel like a crippled old man. I haven't been this seized-up since before my surgery. I am in pain.

I'm counting it as a message from the future. A little advance notice; a reminder of daily life before surgery. Hey stupid, don't go there 'cause it hurts. Being a typical guy I'm not good with subtle reminders. I'm more of a board up-side the head kind of guy. This is one such occasion. Just in case I'm tempted to 'go back' - it is possible, there are plenty of high calorie liquids that are not restricted by the vertical sleeve - a day like today reminds that the good old days weren't that great.    

I know I have back problems. I also know weight reduction is the number one thing I can do to mitigate the problem. So I twitched or twisted the wrong way on the racquetball court, I'll be better tomorrow. I recovered before weight loss, I'll recover quicker with weight loss.

Even though it doesn't feel like it at the moment, it's all good from here.





   

Pleased None The Less

I work in an office full of old men. Except for the ‘kid’, I’m the youngest guy in the room. When the endless conversation concerning food, football or everything wrong in the world gets to be too much, I put in ear buds and tune out to Pandora. Not that I don’t have an opinion on everything, because I do. Sometimes I need to get a little work done and that’s much easier to accomplish without overhearing marriage advice from a group of old men with more divorces than successful marriages; at least a 2:1 ratio by my estimation. Any time the advice starts with, you tell her this… It’s time for a rebuttal and or a little music.

Lucky for her he’s a good kid and smart enough to realize he’s surrounded by a whole lot of stupid.

Michelle’s always telling me not to focus only on weight, but to consider the inches lost too. Last night she grabbed a sewing tape and told me to hold still. The total loss so far is thirty-three inches. No wonder my jeans are getting saggy in the bottom again. The two numbers that stand out in my mind are my waist and my neck; 10” and 5” respectively. The next biggest loser was my thighs at three inches each.

Needless to say, I was pleased with the numbers.

Not like I will be when I break the hundred pound mark, but pleased none the less. 

A Dear Friend

Tonight I had the distinct pleasure of sharing my weight loss surgery with a dear friend from a time long ago. Time passes. The travels of life create distance, but a friend is a friend. And with a true friend, the gap of time and distance are closed in the span of a single phone call.

I truly wish for you all the best. Hugs and love from your west coast kid brother.

I love you.

A Pretty Great Weekend

It’s been a full and eventful weekend; just the way I like it.

Friday night Michelle & I did a little window shopping and then had an ‘appetizer’ dinner. I’m not one for wandering around looking at ‘stuff’, but when the trip includes a stroll through REI, I can be convinced. When the tour includes racks of new ski gear, I can hardly be contained. Contained I was. Michelle tried on a drop-dead gorgeous parka that will have to wait for the spring sales.

Did I mention Michelle looked drop-dead gorgeous in that ski parka?     

Saturday, after my morning workout, I spent a couple hours having lunch with old friend Rick. He’s visiting ‘home’ from Arizona, where he and his wife now live. I guess everybody needs a dose of cold rain once in a while. It was get good to hang out and get caught-up on life. Rick and I spent a lot of time together skiing, hanging out and just being in our early twenties. When small talk turns to grandchildren and pending retirement, you know life has ratcheted forward a few notches.

Today Michelle & I held open house in Mukilteo. It’s encouraging to see how many people are out looking; even better are the number of people with the stated intention to buy. That’s what we like to hear.

All in all it was a pretty great weekend. The only way it could be better is if I were down 89 pounds.

Oh wait, I’m down 89 pounds.

Life is pretty great right now.

I’m a lucky guy.

  

New Holes In My Old Belt

A crazy thing happened tonight.

Michelle brought home a new pair of trousers for me. The tag hanging on them stated they were size 36. I tried them on and they were snug; very snug. No matter how much I sucked in my stomach, I just couldn't get them to close at the top. I put on a brave face but I was sorely disappointed. I really thought I was getting close to a 36 waist.

I recently added a couple of new holes in my old belt, and my 'new' 38's are getting a little baggy in the seat. I'd understand if a 36 waist were snug, but to not be able to close them was a blow.

No sense crying over tight trousers.

As I was folding the new pants and trying to decide if I should hang onto them for 'someday', I noticed something. There sewn neatly into the waistband was a tag; a tag that clearly stated size 34. These pants were miss-marked. Yeah! I was trying to squeeze into a pair of size thirty-four trousers, and I just about did it.

Disappointment instantly changed into elation. Frustration changed into anticipation, and very soon, this guy is changing into a new pair of pants.


Weight update:  87 pounds so far.

    

There Is Hope

I haven't written in a couple of days because, frankly, I haven't had much to say.

Life has become so ordinary. I hardly remember the 'good' old days, four months ago, when I weighed in excess of three hundred pounds. If I didn't occasionally reach into the back of my top drawer and pull out a pair of jumbo extra large undies, I'd probably forget about the whole obesity thing. Trust me, jumbo extra large undies are a reminder that can't be ignored.

Four months! It's amazing how quickly years of eating issues, weight issues, pain and frustration have melted away. I used to carry the burden of obesity like a terminal disease, which it could have easily been.

I know what it feels like to be without hope. I know what it feels like to wake up and go through the motions of life but not really living. I know it all too well.

I'm here to say, there is hope.

Like most things meaningful in life; it takes a decision, a plan and work. It all starts with a decision. For me it was a burden I thought I was powerless to change. Thankfully I was was wrong. A lot can change in four months. I'm living proof.

I guess I had something to say after all.

Examined And Laid Bare

A bittersweet day; some days go that way.

I helped Michelle hold open house in Mulkiteo. It was a slow day so I got to spend a lot of time admiring the view. It was impossible not to think back and lament our home in Anacortes. For two years we got to live on the water at Fidalgo Bay. For two years we got to watch Eagles soar, the sun rise over Mt Baker and a family of Otters swim back and forth in front of us. For two years we lived the dream. It was an incredible time; marred by the crash of the economy in 2008 and ultimately our business.

Such is life. One day I was standing on the mountaintop and the next day everything was crumbling around me. It was an experience that caused me to question everything I had ever known. It was an experience that eventually led us to live in China. It's been a long road. 

Since then everything I thought and knew about myself, where I stand in life and where I'm going has been questioned, examined and laid bare. Even my weight issues and the decision to have weight loss surgery were a result of the crisis and self examination.  

I am a different person today. What I cherish and hold dear has pitched and changed. I’m coming to grips with the balance of life and what remains in the sands. My priorities have changed. I have more urgency in what matters to me most and less patience for that which does not. I am determined that when it’s all said and done there be something tangible that defines who I am; earthly success, failure and weight loss aren't it. 

It seems like there should be more.

Sometimes it’s good to reflect. Sometimes it's hard. At least this time the view was awesome.

Processed Sugar & Toxic Red Dye

Michelle & I are living large tonight; propped up in bed watching a British Comedy marathon on PBS. The only suspense is which one of us is going to fall asleep first. I hope it's me, I hate fishing around in the covers looking for the remote.

Now that we're two days removed from Halloween, I think my blood sugar should be returning to normal. I haven't eaten a fraction of what has been my normal capacity, but a few bites here and there add up. When it comes to processed sugar and toxic red dye there isn't really an acceptable limit, it's all too much.

It's ironic I've become the guy who paces himself one or two M&M's at a time.I used buy the Costco bag of M&M's and call it evening's work. Ironic yes; funny no.

Now that we've survived Halloween, up next is Thanksgiving. Anyone who's been around me at all knows Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Food, family and not a single trip to the mall for one more gift is how I've always sold it. It's going to be interesting fitting the main meal of the year on a salad plate. It's going to be heartbreaking fitting the dessert course on a saucer.

This has been the year of change. Thanksgiving dinner on a salad plate is just one more.

Change is good.



 

    

Trick or Treat

I'm sitting here waiting for the rush of little ghosts and goblins. I've got a giant bowl of Skittles and M&M standing by and ready to go. I hope we have a big night tonight. I don't want to get stuck with nine pounds of processed sugar and toxic red dye.

Trick or treat!

Making Her Crazy

We're going to go a little off topic tonight.

Anybody out there having trouble with the sound on your ipad? Michelle's ipad is exhibiting random sound outages. The problem started right after the last update, iOS 7.0.3 and is making her crazing. My wife has the mistaken impression that Apple products are superior in all aspects. The fact the her ipad is fallible, has shaken her faith in all things technical. Please help.

Evidently, after proofing the previous paragraph, Michelle is under the mistaken impression that I am an idiot.

Even if I were an idiot, I'm an idiot who's down 86 pounds.

I can live with that.

Change Is Good

It feels like a long time since I've written. From Friday through the weekend it was one thing after another. Dinner with family at Laura & Peter's home. Breakfast with Laura & the Boys. Gracie Alice's birthday party. Dinner out with Mom & Dad. Church and lunch with Genesis, Gracie and Hannah. Not to mention grocery shopping and various chores. It was a full and fun weekend.

This was the longest break in my blog since my surgery in June. As I think about it, the new and exciting has become normal. My surgery, and the weight loss that goes with it, is loosing that 'new car' smell. As I walk day to day I become less acutely aware of the physical changes in my life. It is shocking how quickly I've settled into a new reality.

I am a work in process. I have not arrived, but I'm far enough down the trail to realize I'm going to be OK. My priorities are changing. My outlook is changing. The way I view myself is changing.

Change is good.

I fell In The Trap

I played racquetball last night; first time in more than twenty years. I think I finally found something that isn’t like riding a bicycle, if you know what I mean. Within five minutes I had sprinted full speed into the wall and hit the floor twice. By the end of the hour I had been thoroughly school by a guy several years older than me. It was awesome. I haven’t sweat that hard in a long time. This morning I have found muscles I didn't know I had. For a slow-twitch guy like me, a sprint-stop-sprint sport like racquetball is just what the doctor ordered to change-up my workouts. I hope my body and ego are recovered sufficiently to play next Tuesday.

We do the craziest things to please our wives.

Michelle loves just about everything there is about skiing. She loves the snow, riding the chairlift, the scenery, the hot chocolate and the splendor of the mountains. The only part she doesn't like is the actual skiing. Honestly, it isn't the skiing she objects to, it’s the falling down. Unfortunately, falling down is an integral part of skiing, especially for a beginner. Michelle is determined that the falling down part ruins the whole experience. 

I love to ski and I want to share the experience with my wife. I don’t care if we spend all our time coasting down the Daisy run, as long as we’re doing it together. The other night I was enthusing about the pending ski season and all the things we could try to improve her comfort and joy in ‘our’ favorite recreational activity, when she challenged me with a question.

“When are you going horseback riding with me?”

Ouch! I didn't see that one coming. If you know me at all you know there are few things that strike terror in me more than a horse. They’re big. They sense fear. They kick. They bite. They poop on the trail where I want to hike. I don’t like horses. Michelle’s been trying to sell me on horses for years and I've held my ground. In my enthusiasm to pump-up Michelle about ski season, I fell into her trap.

“I’ll ride a horse.”   

I said it like it was as natural and normal walking across the room. I’ll ride a horse. Really, what a stupid thing to say! Before I could think, react, retract; Michelle said great, we have a deal.

And that, my friends, is how Michelle is getting me on a horse.

Maybe It's Karma

That's it; I'm done with pasta.

Tonight for dinner I had baked chicken breast and a small serving of bake penne pasta. I say small serving because it was literally a few tablespoons. I followed the rules. I ate slow. I chewed my food. I stopped before feeling full and still the pasta hit bottom like a ton of bricks. Of all foods, pasta is not my friend. It happens every time and I'm done with it.

I mean it; this time I really do. Maybe it's karma for all the bad I've done over the years with pasta. Me and pasta have done some crazy things: lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, seafood fettuccine, brown butter & Parmesan, and a few others I can't mention in public. I remember a time when we were living in China. We found a little Italian restaurant run by a local man who called himself Chef Luigi. It was like manna from heaven. Actually it was more like an island of crusty bread and linguine in a sea of noodles and rice.

All things change. I'm not going to loose any sleep over my former friend, pasta. We had a good run, but I've moved on. It was good, but now it makes me sick, literally.

How Much Is Enough?

The rate of my weight loss is starting to slow, which has me thinking and in a mild state of panic.

How much is enough? For purely petty reasons, I want to loose at least a hundred pounds. It seems like a 'significant' amount. It seems like an accomplishment; much more than say ninety eight pounds or ninety six pounds fourteen ounces. I know I should be focused on health and good living, but really want at least a hundred pounds.

On a more tangible note; I want to loose enough to run again. A couple of weeks ago I went for a run; three miles, easy pace. It was all good. Until the next day when my knees staged a complete and total revolt. I've had knee problems for a long long time. Maybe I shouldn't have run on them years ago when I started to gain weight. Maybe I shouldn't have skied on them when I weighted as much as a family of four. Would have, could have, should have; it's all in the past now. I did and that's that.

Only time is going to resolve this conundrum. Will he? Won't he? Where is he going to end up? Stick around, we'll find out together.  


Post Script:
According to my lovely wife, I am totally ridiculous. I should be focused on my improved health because, according to Michelle, I'm never going ski like it's nineteen eighty four again.

Hurtful, very hurtful.



 

A Lucky Guy

This afternoon we were driving down Evergreen when we past a gaggle of teens wandering down the sidewalk in what I'm sure they thought was their trendy finest; baggy pants, hoodies, boxers showing and enough hardware between them to stock an isle at Home Depot. Before I could make a comment, Michelle spoke up, "I guess Halloween's coming early this year."  

Yup, we're old.

This morning Michelle schooled me at the Gym. The lesson involved a balance ball, a medicine ball and a big dose of humility. Try standing on a giant bar of soap while someone throws a ten pound ball at you while you try not to fall off, fall over, or fall down. Hiring a personal trainer for Michelle has proven to be a great decision. The jury is still out as far as I'm concerned.

Good news, nobody does the hot tub after a workout better than I do.

Tomorrow is October 20th. Four months ago on June 20th I had weight loss surgery. As of this morning, I've lost eighty-three pounds and found more than I ever knew was missing. My life has changed in ways I never dreamed possible.

I truly am, a lucky guy.  

A Perfect Outing

Tonight Michelle & I went out for dinner. It was a near perfect outing.

One result of significant weight loss is I am always cold. This is new for me. I've always been shorts and short sleeve guy. Everyone is bundled up from the cold, and I stroll by in Birkenstock's and Bermuda shorts like I'm looking for the beach. No more, I'm the cold one. Always.

I have to assume by the fact that I was the only one in Anthony's with blue lips and shivering uncontrollably; I was the only one who was cold. Before the bread basket arrived, Michelle jokingly offered her scarf. In a nano-second I accepted and had the frilly accessory wrapped several times around my neck. Michelle thought I looked ridiculous. The waitress, no doubt concerned about her tip, offered to turn the heat up. And I didn't care; willing to trade an awkward social appearance for a little warmth.

On the up side, Michelle and I split a salmon dinner, two cups of chowder and had a wonderful time together.  

On second thought, it was a perfect outing.

I Miss That Guy

It’s been a crazy couple of days, but that’s all behind me now.

On with life; what a good life it is. It’s been a long time coming, but all is good in all I survey.

Don’t get me wrong, my life wasn't bad. In fact, in earlier writings I've repeatedly referred to myself as a ‘lucky man’. It wasn't wishful thinking; it was true to the moment. I have an awesome wife. I have a great family. I was healthy enough, or so I thought. There were tough times, but isn't that life? Overall, life was good, right?

Looking back it seems so obvious. I was always the guy in the back row of every photograph. I rarely smiled. I looked for any excuse to avoid social situations, especially with people I didn't already know.  I leaned on my wife life she was the last life jacket on a sinking ship because that’s one of the few places I felt truly comfortable. Looking back; I lived my life in hiding. With every pound my confidence eroded. With every pound my ability to live the life I loved diminished. With every pound I became a little less of whom I was. 

I've lost eighty-three pounds so far and I feel like I can fly. The sunshine is warmer. The rain is sweeter and every day is a new opportunity; superlative, I know. However, I cannot overstate the positive impact this experience has had on my life. It has been so much more than a surgical procedure and shrinking waistline. It’s been about finding me. 

It turns out I missed that guy more than I knew. 

Empirical Evidence

Today's 'routine procedure' is complete; everything came out fine.

For my wife who has on occasion insinuated I was full of crap, I have empirical evidence to the contrary.

That's how you celebrate Columbus Day.

Routine Procedure

Tomorrow afternoon I am scheduled for a 'routine procedure'.

Today has been spent 'prepping' for said procedure.

Some days getting old isn't much fun.

Fun & Frivolity

Today Michelle & I went for a drive in the mountains to look at the fall colors.

Along the way we stopped at Snoqualmie Falls, had a non-fat cafe mocha, and went for a short hike at Alpental Ski area. It was a day of fun and frivolity.

It was a day well spent.

One Slice Guy

Friday night is pizza night.

We've gone from two large to one small with left-overs. Suddenly I'm a 'one slice' guy.

The miracles never cease.

Make My Day

Sixteen weeks; it's been sixteen weeks today since having weight loss surgery. My life has changed in more ways than I ever imagined. The most significant being; I'm down eighty-two pounds.

The question I get asked all the time; do I have any regrets? Just one, why did I weight so long.

If you, or anyone you know, have questions about weight loss surgery, please contact me. It would make make my day to share what I've learned.

Genuine Thankfulness

Today I ran into someone I haven't seen in a long time; more than four months. His reaction made my day. I'm not bragging; at least not in the traditional, 'look at me, I'm better than you' sense. I know full well if it weren't for the grace of God and the skill of a surgeon I'm be where I started this journey, or worse. For years I struggled and failed with my efforts to control my weight. I'm proud of my results so far, but I'm not stupid. I know credit belongs where credit is due.

A friend who had weight loss surgery before I did, heard me say in response to a comment someone made on my weight loss, that I had cheated. He pulled me aside and told me I didn't cheat. I took responsibility. I took control. I took drastic measures to correct my situation, but I didn't cheat. He's right. Cheating implies gain at someones expense. My surgery has proven to be gain for everyone I love and care about.

There isn't an aspect of my life that isn't improved. The first time my granddaughter put her arms around me and realized her hands touched, is etched in my mind. She was shocked. Then over-joyed and then locked her hands around my waste and held on like she'd just discovered something really good: me.

That kind of reaction doesn't give rise to bragging. That kind of reaction instills humility and a genuine thankfulness for the opportunity I've been given.

Crazy Wild Fantastic Journey

This morning Michelle forgot her make-up bag. She had an eight AM training appointment and then left straight for work. Michelle, my Michelle, went all day with just the odds of make-up tumbling around in the bottom of her purse. I'm lead to believe this is somewhat akin to me walking around all day with only one shoe. The difference is; Michelle always looks great and I would look totally ridiculous with only one shoe.

My work day starts at 6:00 AM. I don't have much opportunity for morning workouts, at least not during the week. I suppose it's possible, but I'm not about to get up one minute earlier than I absolutely necessary. Tonight was my typical swim & spin workout. Michelle is trying to 'nudge' me towards more of a lifting or power based workout. The fact that my lovely wife knows what a power workout is, is a little unsettling. The fact that she does power workouts and is chiding me for not; that's just wrong.

When Michelle and I first talked about weight loss surgery, she said only if we did it together. She was all in. Changes in diet, exercise, lifestyle; Michelle has been locked with me every step of the way. To the point where my sweet wife is pushing me on the weights; again, that's just wrong.

It's been a crazing, wild, fantastic journey so far. It's been all the better because we've done it together. The most exciting thing to me is, we've just started. It's been less than four months since I had weight loss surgery. I can't even image what the next four months will bring.

Stay tuned. We'll find out together.

Even the Food

What a weekend! Great weather. Lots done. A long walk with Michelle and Sunday dinner; it just doesn't get better than that. Oh wait, Grandma Michelle and Miss Layla Jane made pumpkin spice cookies with frosting and sprinkles. Now we're talking.

You may be thinking; Linn's getting a little happy with Sunday dinner and cookies. Darn right he is. The difference between me today and me eighty-one pounds ago, is I can enjoy a cookie. As opposed to, let's say, enjoying every last cookie in the house and then searching for more. I now use a salad plate for my Sunday dinner and I don't go looking for seconds. In fact, I've learned it's OK to not finish my plate. 

I still enjoy food, just a lot less of it. I still enjoy Sunday dinner and Granada's cookies, just on a different level. When my focus isn't on eating until I can't breath, it leaves time and place for enjoying the people, the experience and ironically, even the food.

Enough Said

It's Friday.

I'm not normally the clock-watching type, but this week I'm ready for a little down time.

Enough said? Hope so.

Ugly Old Belt

I have a belt.

It’s an old brown belt. It’s been with me a long time and it’s held my trousers through some pretty tough times. Near the pointy end there’s an elongated hole and a ridge across it where the leathers been distressed and deformed under prolonged pressure.

Yesterday I drilled another set of holes in my trusty old belt. Now, in addition to one tortured hole and four progressively less abused holes, there are seven new holes in my trust old belt. Two are extra; to be used at a future date. Some might call it optimism. I call it planning ahead.  

Michelle hates my old brown belt.

Why don’t you buy a new belt? That belt looks ridiculous.  Why you insist upon hanging on to that ugly old belt?

If Michelle tossed every ridiculous old thing in her life, I’d be headed to the curb right now. I keep the belt because it’s a tangible reminder of where I’ve been, where I’m going, and where I stand right now. No other single item in my life serves as such a graphic marker of my progress.   

Someday the old brown belt will end up in the bin. For now, the old brown belt rides with me.

One more thing: if you measure back from where I was to where I am; it’s a journey of nine inches!

 

 

 

I'll Take That Deal

One unintended side effect of weight loss surgery; I'm cold all the time.

I was shorts and sandals guy, even in the dead of winter. Now I have wear a shirt, a sweater, a jacket and a coat; just to sit at my desk without shivering. I'd wear gloves and a hat too, but there's the issue of working the keyboard, and of course, the issue of ridicule and looking stupid too.

I've done some research. There's a logical explanation for the deep chill. First, I simply don't have the fat layer of insulation I used to carry. There's reason whales have blubber, they live in a cold ocean. I spend 99.9% of my time on dry land, so a thick layer of blubber is totally unnecessary. Second, my metabolic rate is changing. It takes less fuel to run my body. Less fuel is less fire. Less fire is less heat. According to the articles I've read this should all sort its self out in a year or so.

Until then, I'm the guy in the office dressed like twenty below. I may look ridiculous, but I'm warm. These days, I'll take that deal.

Significant Gaps

I'm coming up on a pretty major milestone. I'm currently at seventy nine and a half pounds lost and bearing down on eighty. The last time I weight this much, or this little, depending upon your outlook, was 1993. Actually, it was Wednesday, May 12, 1993. I know because I am a compulsive journalizer.

For years I have recorded important events and mundane facts with equal ferocity. I have more files of useless information than I'll ever have practical use. Before this blog was ten years of Saturday emails. Then was a newsletter from China. Going back even further, are my logs and journals of all things useless; except I know what my weight was, Wednesday, May 12, 1993.

Of course there are significant gaps in my journals. Those voids identify dark periods of weight gain, lost battles, and other times better left unremembered. Not that my failure to record a complete record in anyway erases the reality of what I've lived and remember.

When I started on this journey my goal was life without limits. I am still steadfast in that conviction. However, I'd like to add life without gaps. I'm not a fool. I know there are going to be hard times ahead. I'm not a pessimist, quite the opposite, but I understand the realities of life. One must trudge through the valleys of life to climb the mountain tops. Without the valleys to prove their dizzying heights, the mountain top is just another place to stand.

This journey started off to be all about weight. It started with weight loss surgery and a desperation to change my life. I'm still seeking change, but not just with my body.

Much Better; Thank You

I'm back and I'm feeling much better; thank you very much.

I love this time of year. Wind, rain, snow in the mountains, it can only mean one thing; ski season is around the corner.

For years I have skied with a handicap: me. It's hard to tear up the mountain when it takes most of your strength to buckle your boots. Any reserves are used up getting to the chairlift. Muscle memory takes over for a couple of runs and then the body revolts into a quivering mass that dooms any further activity for three to five days. But it's oh so glorious for a run or two.

Not this year. This year I run with the big dogs. Not in the crazy I think I'm twenty-one watch me do this sense; I'm not stupid. I'm not! This year I'm going to ski any slope that calls my name and the day's not over before lunch. This year I'm going to enjoy the experience, not just survive it. And yes, there may be a few stupid watch this moments, but oh is it going to be a glorious time.

This weekend Michelle made me buy a new jacket. In the same way she grew weary of seeing me in saggy-bottom jeans, my old triple XL coat wore out it's welcome. I have a long history of hating clothes shopping. It isn't easy getting me into the men's department, but it's getting easier. In the past I have shopped for what fits. Now I get to shop for what I want. Once I found out I was in a men's large - no X's attached - suddenly the experience was a whole lot more tollerable.

I have a new jacket. Michelle's happy. I'm happy. It's a nearly perfect world.

Until Then, Goodnight

I hate to be a wimp, but I am not feeling well.

It may be the change in weather. It may be a three year old's bug (granddaughter). Whatever it is, it's kicking my behind.

Hopefully a day or two is all I'll need to be back to my usual self. Until then, goodnight.

Back in Business

This morning around the coffee pot one of the guys posed a question: what’s your dream job. Surprisingly, out of the seven guys standing around, not one said this job, but that’s another story. I haven’t been able to shake the question all day. The more I think about it; the more honest I am with myself, the more I realize this isn’t my dream job.

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for my job. A couple of years ago my chosen career dropped us into the abyss, which kind of takes the luster off your dream career.  We went through a really rough time. If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t know where we’d be. My job pays the bills, provides medical coverage and gives me a reason to get up at 5:00 AM – every stinking day. As grateful as I am, my job is just a job. I sit at a desk, do my work and go home. I haven’t had a job, at least not in this sense, since sometime around nineteen eighty eight. 

After some serious thought; here’s my honest answer; my dream job. I would teach skiing in the morning, and play guitar in a blues/rock band at night. During the summer I would run sail charters during the day and play guitar at night. Honest and practical are two different matters. Since very few jobs I know of pay less than skiing, sailing and playing guitar, I think I need to stay where I’m at for awhile.

I told you I was grateful!

All this talk of dream jobs leads me straight to this; Michelle has renewed her real estate license and is back in business. She will be working out of the Keller Williams office in Everett. If you’re in the market to buy or sell a home in our area, she’s the one you need to see.

 

 

Miserable Outside

I don't know what the weather is doing where you live, but here it's raining. Not your typical Pacific Northwest drizzle; it's raining with purpose. It is cold and dark and wet outside, and I'm inside. I should be on my way to workout, but I'm here warm and dry.

I came home to start dinner with every intention to turn around and head out to the gym. Instead, I find myself about as unmotivated as lazy gets. I can think of a hundred and one good reasons why I should workout tonight, and one not so good: I don't want to.

Normally I don't have a problem with motivation. Building upon success is easy. Lose five pounds, you want ten. Lose ten pounds, you want twenty. Tonight I want a bowl of turkey soup and to stay warm and dry. I don't think I'm loosing my edge. It's miserable outside.  

Michelle's Sunday Supper

Michelle decided that with cooler weather and the advent of fall, it was time for a proper Sunday dinner. Tonight's menu included a roast turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, Brussels sprouts, homemade gravy and fresh dinner rolls with butter. As if that weren't enough, a warm pumpkin loaf for desert later this evening. Here's the rub; my weight loss procedure can't tell the difference between every day overeating, and a once in a while special meal. And let me tell you, tonight's was a special meal.

My stomach only holds so much. Doesn't matter if it's leftovers on Tuesdays or one of Michelle's Sunday suppers; I'm only going to get a salad plate sized meal before the pain sets in. Tonight I really wanted to eat more. It was so good.

Now as I sit here and reflect, I realize it is more than food, it is an experience. No surgery can take away the most important elements of Sunday dinner; the smells that fill the house, sharing the table, the first bite.

I could lament missing out on a second scoop of mashed potatoes, but that would be just stupid. Instead, I choose to celebrate. I'll gladly give up a second helping at every Sunday dinner from here to evermore. It's a small price to pay for for something I could never do on my own.

Great Fanfare and a Box of Blue Balloons

Today, with great fanfare and a box of blue helium balloons, we found out our next grandchild will be a grandson. Congratulations Lindsey & Jeremy, it's going to be a boy.


Congratulations Dublin; two sisters, seven girl cousins, and finally a new boy cousin. Proof positive; patience pays.


Congratulations Papa Linn & Grandma Michelle; eleven grandbabies!

I don't Want To Miss A Moment

Sometimes late at night I lie there listening to you breathe. I don’t want to wake you, but I don’t want to miss a moment of our time together. I see the world outside and you are where I want to be. There are so many things I would change, roads taken, decisions made. You; you I love.  

One of my best friends is going through a divorce. Another, his wife is ill with cancer. This summer my brother-in-law passed. My heart breaks with sadness and loss. For all our efforts, much of life is beyond our control. You don’t get to choose the time and place. You can’t force someone to love you. You can only take the pieces before you.

For years I lived in limbo. I allowed life to happen all around me; all the while wishing I was in the game. There were moments. There were highs and lows. There was just enough to fool me into thinking it was enough. What if I fail? Fear paralyzes.

Through it all there is a constant. Even when I wouldn’t believe in myself, you believed in me. I may never see what you see in me, but I am eternally grateful for your unconditional love and support.

I can’t imagine my life without you in it.


 

I Feel Alive

Tomorrow is a major milestone; three months post-surgery.

On June 20, 2013, Michelle & I travelled to Mexico where I received the Vertical Sleeve Gastrostomy (VSG) procedure. It has transformed my life. As of this morning, I am down 76.4 pounds. My waist has gone from a tight 44 to a comfortable 36. And, I continue to lose at reasonable rate of two or three pounds per week. My body is fully recovered. I can eat whatever I want to, just not very much. I find my ‘want to’ has changed. I eat much healthier and have even been known to actually spit something out if I decided it wasn’t worth the calories. I know that sounds gross, but it’s a long way from the kid who finished everything on his plate, and then went looking for more.  

I cannot overstate the positive impact this has had on my life. Michelle has said many times that the surgery was on my stomach, but the effect is in my mind. I feel alive and capable and optimistic like I haven’t felt in years. It’s funny; more people notice and comment on my attitude than on my weight loss.

If you have questions about Weight Loss Surgery or the journey I’m on, please ask. If you know of someone who might benefit from reading my blog, please pass it on. I’m not pushing weight loss surgery; it’s not for everyone. I speak of change. If you’re not happy with your station in life, change it. Problems don’t fix themselves and situations tend to deteriorate rather than improve.

It’s hard; I know it is. The first step is to look in the mirror and face down the truth.

There’s no sense going on. Until step one is accomplished, it’s all just conjecture. It doesn’t matter what people tell you; even those closest to you. It doesn’t even matter what you tell yourself, until you’re ready to be totally, brutally, honest. I used to jest that I was the fittest fat man you’d ever meet. Because of my previous fitness I had core strength and ability beyond my size. It was a hard day when I stared down the guy in the mirror and had to admit he wasn’t the fittest fat man. I was just fat.

That’s how it began. Where it ends, who knows? I can tell you this; the path chosen has exceeded my wildest dreams, and I’ve only just begun.