See this guy to the left? That was me in 2012. Definitely 5’9″, roughly 300 lbs.
In a lot of ways, that’s still me. My size has always been an issue in one way or another in my life. Growing up, not such a big deal. Up until about seventh grade or so, I was actually one of the bigger kids in my class. If it wasn’t for one guy, Damien, I’d have been the tallest all through my elementary school. At some point between seventh and eighth grade though, I just stopped growing upward. I watched as kids just kind of blew past me, and I went from being the center on the rec league basketball team to a forward, then a guard, then I just kind of stopped playing.
Anyway, all through high school I wasn’t really “fat”, just kinda chunky or whatever, but I played a lot of baseball, cycled a bunch and stayed in relatively good shape. It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized you could have things like “A slice of pizza, fries, and some chocolate milk” for dinner. Game changer? Sure, in a few ways. In the end though, it just made me kinda huge.
I stayed relatively athletic despite my girth. By the time 2010 hit, I was right around 290-300 lbs (and still 5’9″). I played intramural softball and flag football (the joys of working on a college campus!) and liked to consider myself pretty good at athletic stuff despite a 48″ waist.
Right around 2012 I decided that I was tired of being what I liked to consider a “fatty fatty fat fat fat”. It wasn’t due to a breakup or anything like that, I had just had enough of things like “horrible chafing when I walked a mile”. I’d also always enjoyed hiking, and had seen people running and thought how cool it would be to be able to go run for a while or something like that. In general, there was someone physically that I wanted to be and I was nowhere near what that person was.
I saw a nutritionist a couple of times, and got a really good eating program put together. Over the course of the next few months the pounds started falling off, I started getting in shape and things went really well. I ran my first 5K, then 8K, and then a half-marathon. I was, by far, in the best shape of my life.
I’m not sure what happened after that. I guess I got complacent somewhere along the way. “Oh, I can run a half marathon no problem”, or something like that. Either way, the workouts have become less intense, and less long, and while I’m not in bad shape, I feel…well I feel like that guy at the top of the screen.
As I type this, I feel the same kind of “sick of myself” feeling I did in 2012. Sure, I’m in better shape than I was then. But “going along and just doing the bare minimum” is exactly where I was then, and I don’t like that feeling. I didn’t then, and I don’t now.
So today, June 29, 2016, I start fresh. Somewhere along the way I’ve lost the drive I had to become a better me. I’ve somehow become happy with being able to do what I can do. And worst of all, I haven’t felt like I should/could be better. I’m not sure what’s clicked, but a quick glance in the mirror shows me someone I was along time ago, and someone I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself be again.
So today’s Day 1, again. Here goes nothing.