Last week, I wrote an article about a high-school friend of mine that had Type 1 (childhood) diabetes. I learned some important lessons about people with chronic diseases and disabilities from that friendship. I learned some things, also, about myself. I grew from the experience, and for that I'm grateful.

I'm in the process of learning another lesson - one that is much more difficult for me, because it's personal. It's about me.

When I was younger, in my teens and early twenties, I was in really excellent shape. I ran cross-country and track in high school and played lots of different sports (softball, basketball). I wasn't exactly the prototypical jock, because I had lots of other interests besides sports, but I was definitely athletic. (In fact, my senior year in high school, I won the "Most Outstanding Student in Physical Education" award). I could run a mile in well under 5:00 minutes and a half-mile under 2:00 minutes. I spent over three hours a day, six days a week, running. Saturdays were what we called "LSD" days. In this case, LSD stood for "long, slow distance." On those days, I'd run between seven and fifteen miles, at a pace of around 6:30 to 7:00 minutes per mile. Yeah, I thought a 7:00 minute mile was slow. For someone in really good shape, who is used to middle-to-long distance racing, a 7:00 minute mile is slow.

So, because I was so active, (and had been thin all my life), when I graduated from high school I weighed about 150 pounds. When I graduated from college, I weighed about 170 pounds. When I got married, when I was 25 years old, I weighed actually a little less - about 165 pounds.

After college and after I was married, I started working as a professional software developer. My job requires that I sit on my back side for eight-plus hours a day, five or more days a week. To get to my work place, I drive about an hour each way. I don't have much time to exercise. What does that mean? Well, I now weigh about 80 pounds more than what I weighed when I graduated from high school. I never thought it could happen to me, the skinny, athletic kid: I'm fat. In fact, I fit the medical definition of obese.

I don't mean to offend anyone by using these terms. It's just a fact. I could say "overweight" or something else more politically correct. It wouldn't change the fact. I weigh a lot more than is healthy for someone of my build. As the old joke goes, I'm short for my weight.

So, why the embarrassing self-disclosure?

Well, Type 2 diabetes is, to some degree at least, a lifestyle disease. It is exacerbated, if not caused directly, by being overweight. The American Diabetes Association web site says, "researchers have discovered that being overweight can trigger the onset of diabetes because excess fat prevents insulin from working properly."

This isn't a trivial issue. Diabetes leads to lots of serious health problems, including heart disease, including heart attacks and strokes; eye problems, including blindness; kidney disease, up to even kidney failure requiring dialysis or transplant; nerve and joint problems; and serious skin infections.