In the spring of 2008, I was at the zoo with my then-girlfriend and they had a scale you could step on that showed you how much you weighed in terms of chickens, goats, and cow. I stepped on the scale and weighed 4 goats (equivalent to 240 lbs) and immediately balked at that, verbally assuming that the scale must be broken (even at 6'3", I had never previously weighed anywhere near that). Said girlfriend stepped on the scale and said it was accurate. I wept. When did I get so big? Turns out the combination of entering my mid-20s and getting an office job, along with my already sedentary lifestyle of video games, movies, and poor eating habits was a recipe for corpulence. I was unhappy with myself and made some slight changes, like cutting out soda and trying to cook at home more, but made no drastic alterations to my lifestyle. Fast-forward to that December and my dad, who was also quite heavy, had a heart attack. Not long after, the girlfriend and I broke up. Nothing wills one to exercise like being single and watching a close relative in the hospital.
Since my dad had now graduated from "should probably lose weight" to "you're going to die if you do not lose weight" and I was looking to shed some pounds, I told him I would make the drive to go the gym with him, to help keep both of us accountable (It should be noted that prior to this I had never exercised more than a few days in a row). It was tough in the beginning. I would walk for about half an hour on a treadmill, as when I attempted a light jog I was winded in less than five minutes. I eventually got down to 215, which was certainly an improvement, but my goal was 200 lbs, with a stretch goal of 180. I did not actually believe I would ever hit the 180 mark, but I kept it in my back pocket in case pigs started to fly. Eventually I started to do some heavier cardio work and began to lift weights after I was laid off from work and had a lot more time on my hands (I cannot stress enough how out of my wheelhouse this was for me at the time). I got down to 205, but after starting a new job eventually crept back up to 215. I had been so close to 200 but had not quite made it. Now I was sure 180 was an impossibility, but I still wanted to crack 200.
I buckled down. I went to the gym more, never missing a day (for the previous year I was prone to skip here and there, anytime my dad was unable to make it). I got into a great routine. I was starting to do high intensity intervals. I cooked all of my meals at home, counting calories. On days my dad couldn't make it, I still went, even though I did not have anyone to be accountable to aside from myself. I got closer and closer and eventually hit 200. This only spurned me on even more. I still remember the joy (and shock) of stepping onto the scale and seeing it sitting at 200. It was the best motivation to exercise I had ever had. I worked even harder, now visiting the gym more often, even weekends. It started to melt off. 197, 195, 190. Suddenly, 180 was not only not impossible, but it was attainable. I was running faster, lifting more. I could now do more than four push-ups in a setting. I could finally do a pull-up (a few actually). Eventually it happened; I hit the impossible 180 lb. mark. I couldn't believe it. I lost an entire goat! I had to buy smaller clothes. I was able to do several pull-ups. I was doing 140 push-ups a day. I was running 5 and 10ks; for fun! I say all this not to brag, because these aren't impressive numbers, relatively speaking, but for me it was a big deal. I hit the 10-mark anniversary of that journey early last year and sometimes it's still hard to imagine I've been working out for an entire decade, something I never thought would happen, when I think about who I used to be. Here's to another 10 years of health, fitness, and keeping the weight off.
Epilogue: I went back to the zoo after losing the weight and stepped on that scale again. 3 goats.
Since my dad had now graduated from "should probably lose weight" to "you're going to die if you do not lose weight" and I was looking to shed some pounds, I told him I would make the drive to go the gym with him, to help keep both of us accountable (It should be noted that prior to this I had never exercised more than a few days in a row). It was tough in the beginning. I would walk for about half an hour on a treadmill, as when I attempted a light jog I was winded in less than five minutes. I eventually got down to 215, which was certainly an improvement, but my goal was 200 lbs, with a stretch goal of 180. I did not actually believe I would ever hit the 180 mark, but I kept it in my back pocket in case pigs started to fly. Eventually I started to do some heavier cardio work and began to lift weights after I was laid off from work and had a lot more time on my hands (I cannot stress enough how out of my wheelhouse this was for me at the time). I got down to 205, but after starting a new job eventually crept back up to 215. I had been so close to 200 but had not quite made it. Now I was sure 180 was an impossibility, but I still wanted to crack 200.
I buckled down. I went to the gym more, never missing a day (for the previous year I was prone to skip here and there, anytime my dad was unable to make it). I got into a great routine. I was starting to do high intensity intervals. I cooked all of my meals at home, counting calories. On days my dad couldn't make it, I still went, even though I did not have anyone to be accountable to aside from myself. I got closer and closer and eventually hit 200. This only spurned me on even more. I still remember the joy (and shock) of stepping onto the scale and seeing it sitting at 200. It was the best motivation to exercise I had ever had. I worked even harder, now visiting the gym more often, even weekends. It started to melt off. 197, 195, 190. Suddenly, 180 was not only not impossible, but it was attainable. I was running faster, lifting more. I could now do more than four push-ups in a setting. I could finally do a pull-up (a few actually). Eventually it happened; I hit the impossible 180 lb. mark. I couldn't believe it. I lost an entire goat! I had to buy smaller clothes. I was able to do several pull-ups. I was doing 140 push-ups a day. I was running 5 and 10ks; for fun! I say all this not to brag, because these aren't impressive numbers, relatively speaking, but for me it was a big deal. I hit the 10-mark anniversary of that journey early last year and sometimes it's still hard to imagine I've been working out for an entire decade, something I never thought would happen, when I think about who I used to be. Here's to another 10 years of health, fitness, and keeping the weight off.
Epilogue: I went back to the zoo after losing the weight and stepped on that scale again. 3 goats.
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