My BMI classifies me. I prefer to call myself fat, though; because morbidly obese just sounds—morbid.
Binge-eating fistfuls of Oreos; chugging 2-Liter Cokes; and all-you-can-eat buffets brought me here.
Growing up, I rode bikes, climbed hills, fished, played football in the yard, but I was still chunky.
I remember being 100lbs in Kindergarten. I played baseball then, and could hit the ball out of the park because I was so husky for my age.
In fourth grade, I was the fastest kid in school (I was 5′ 11 then, but unfortunately, I still am). Because of my size, I felt like a superhero. I could hurl baseballs, slam kickballs, and nobody messed with me, because I was a foot taller than anyone else in my grade. This kind of power jacked up my thinking, though. I developed a mindset of always wanting to have the crazier, bigger, or ridiculous ideas than anyone else.
I would challenge people to eating contests, milk speed-drinking races in the cafeteria, and seeing who could make the loudest sounds at recess. I was competitive, and if there was a contest I even thought I could beat you in, I would challenge you to it. But, even with all the physical activity, I was still fat.
I overly stuffed my mouth-hole and if I hadn’t been active, I would have probably been 400lbs. Thankfully, I hovered around 215-260lbs throughout middle school and high school.
In sixth grade, I met other people as big as me. I stopped growing too; and soon many of the boys were taller and stronger than me. My biggest strength, my grandiose size, became my weakness. I couldn’t perform as well as others because I was the big guy.
And now in 2020, after 10 months of ultra-Marathon training, I still hit the scales at 227lbs. I had grand visions of where I would be by now, but they didn’t happen. I even switched to being a vegan nine months ago. That wasn’t the magic-bullet either. And in 20 days, I’m embarking on my first ultra attempt, The Georgia Jewel (37.5 miles, 7000 ft of elevation).
I only want to finish; even if I am dead freaking last.
In 3 weeks, I have to prove to myself that even though I’m a big guy, I can still do big things. And after I am successful, I want to pursue something ludicrous.
I am going to win a last man standing race, even though I’m fat.
We’re a lot alike wrt weight. My peak weight was 280, and I’ve managed to get down to 230ish. Even dipped down to 220ish a couple times but couldn’t stay there. I was hoping that running was going to be that “magic bullet” but so far that hasn’t materialized. But we keep chugging along right!?
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Exactly. We’ll chug along and get skinnier or stronger. All this running is changing us, one way or another. 😉
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