The Path Taken

I’m down sixty-three pounds and still losing. I smile more. I even talk to strangers; which is not my nature. I wake up happy and lay my head down at night content with life. Life is good, which l begs the question, why?

When Michelle and I sat down and discussed Weight Loss Surgery (WLS) her primary concern was my health. I had problems with my knees and my back. I had hypertension. I was borderline diabetic, and although I didn’t know it and wouldn’t have admitted it if did, I was depressed.

I used to joke that I was the fittest fat man you’d ever meet. It was marginally true. Because of my previous fitness level, I was able to do things most people my size couldn’t, or at least wouldn’t try. I was able to backpack, ski, cycle, even complete a triathlon because of core strength and muscle memory. I was a weekend warrior wrapped in a fat suit. One day I woke up and had to face the fact that I was no longer the fittest fat man, I was just fat. It was a hard day.

I wish I could say I didn’t care how people looked at me. It’s humiliating to ask for a seat belt extension when settling in for a flight. Buying new clothes: why bother, nothing here’s going to make me look good. Talk about teaching skiing, climbing mountains, running a marathon, completing a triathlon and you see the doubt in their eyes, really, you? At some point you quit sharing, and then the long fade to isolation. 

It’s been almost two months since WLS and I feel like I’m just getting started on this journey. In so many ways I feel like I have a new lease on life, but why? It’s not an easy question to answer.  It’s more than just weight, but I can’t wrap my head around it, not yet. Like any good journey the path taken is as important as the destination.

For the first time in a long time I am excited about being on the path.