Life is easier when you’re fit.

I was amazed recently when my brother and I were looking through old photos to see that, at one point, I was skinny. I was amazed because I was the fat kid for most of my childhood, or at least the parts I remember most vividly. I can hardly remember a time I was comfortable wearing a T-shirt. In those pictures, forget not being comfortable in a T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing a shirt!

What happened?

I don’t remember changing. I don’t remember gradually becoming “out of shape.” I do remember eating German chocolate cake for breakfast, peanut butter and Griffin’s syrup for lunch, and cheese dip for dinner. I remember gorging myself at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Fourth of July. You would have thought I was starving. You would have thought I was scared about when I would get to eat again. Come to think of it, I always ate like it was my last meal.

Another aspect of my declining fitness, moving from early childhood to adolescence, was exercise induced asthma. It’s not that I was ever completely sedentary. I didn’t spend all my time inside watching TV or playing video games, although I did a fair amount of that. But I was slow. I didn’t run or play sports. I avoided getting out-of-breath.

It’s hard to overcome a horrible diet in the best of circumstances. This was not the best of circumstances. It’s of little surprise that I ended up an obese young man.

Like most people who find themselves in a situation like mine, I spent years trying to lose weight. I tried every fad diet and workout routine imaginable, for at least a day or two.

I spent years riding the dreaded dietary yo-yo, losing 20 or 30 pounds here, gaining 50 pounds there. Eventually, I made the unfortunate decision that I was done caring. I was done trying to control my body, and I would just do whatever was easiest. Well, I can assure you that was a horrible decision.

It’s almost never a good idea to take the easiest route.

I peaked at 320 pounds with chronic back pain, some amount of sleep apnea, and a general lack of comfort in almost every public setting. It sucked!

I was around 280-ish when my wife and I got married. I wasn’t keeping track, but I’m sure I put on a few pounds by the time we took our honeymoon a couple of months later. We went to Las Vegas. Really, it was a great trip. I did, however, experience one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I couldn’t close the harness for the Big Shot (that ride at the top of The Strat). Everyone waited while I tried to suck-in just enough. The ride operator even offered me an extension buckle, assuring me that it would be safe. I declined and walked away from the ride.

Not surprisingly, that dreaded walk of shame has stayed with me. It took some time, but I think it played a key role in finally turning things around. But more importantly, there are a few other key points that have helped me stay the course over the last 3 or 4 years:

  1. Christ died for me. If needed, I can be uncomfortably hungry to take care of the body and life that He redeemed.

  2. My wife loves me for who I am. She made vows to spend life with me while I felt I was at my worst physically. She never shamed me, but she helped hold me accountable when I decided to change. She went out of her way to help me in whatever way she could. At one point, she even intervened with family members who tried to guilt me into eating a dessert. She kindly explained, “If he was a recovering alcoholic, you wouldn’t make him feel bad for not trying a sip of your wine, so why are you doing it with sweets?” They got the point.

  3. I don’t have to try/have every good thing. I’ve already tried most of it anyway. If it’s the last one in existence, that’s okay. I remember it was good. It won’t hurt me to not experience it again. There are many more fulfilling things to find joy in than food.

Today, I’m far from perfectly fit. I am, however, trending in a positive direction. I’m in better physical shape in my mid 30’s than I can ever remember being.

And let me tell you, life is easier when you’re fit.

- JP