Starting weight (January 4, 2006): 370 pounds
Last weigh-in (March 6, 2008): 269.8
Total pounds lost: 100.2
Pounds until 240: 29.8
It’s hard to figure out how to begin this post.
Do I go back to the first step in the road on Jan. 4, 2006 when I began the 100 Days quest? Do I got back even further to that night in Dec. 2005 when I lay in bed at 2 a.m. thinking how grotesquely oversized my body had become?
That night I made a decision to lose weight. That night will go down as one of the most important of my life. I could start there.
But do I go back to the slow evolution in Colorado, where I went from merely obese at 325 pounds to impending heart attack fat at 370? Or do I go back to life as a kid in Detroit, when I started eating more than any 5-year old should?
Maybe I go back only a week, when I crept back up to 275 and began my “Assault on 270.”
Maybe I shouldn’t go back at all. Maybe I should just continue working toward the future, when all this will settle in behind me and my transformation will be complete.
If this sounds like a self-congratulatory, ego-filled rant, well, I guess it kinda is.
But I don’t mind congratulating myself today, because I saw the number 269.8 on Thursday. Sorry, but I couldn’t help but celebrate the loss of 100 pounds.
Yep, I made it. Yep, I’m proud. Please let me gloat, let me have this so I can figure out a way to frame it and put it on the wall in my room. Let me take this day and consider it one of my finest, the day that I hit a milestone I’ve pined after for more than two years; a milestone I all but abandoned on my first try.
It started with the idea of 100 pounds in 100 days. Ok, so that theory was proven wrong. But you gotta admit, 100 pounds in a very roundabout 796 days ain’t so bad now, is it? Plus, if the theory was 100 pounds in 800 days, I would still have four to spare.
I hope by now you know the history. You know that I lost 95 pounds in five months the first time around, and then crept back up near 300 in late 2007. You know this is my second blog on the subject, and that I’ve been looking at 100 pounds as one of my main goals.
But you also know that the specific goal this time isn’t to get under 270. No, it’s 240. And that’s what makes this a little bittersweet. Perhaps it is a little bit remarkable that the 100 pound benchmark also signifies the halfway point for the Fortress. I suppose it is fitting that as I put my initial goal behind me, I am turning the corner on the homestretch of my ultimate prize.
I won’t rest here for long. Sure there may be a celebration in my future, one that I will keep private and under wraps and you will never hear about again on the pages of this Web site. Why? Because I’m not done. I’ve got 30 pounds left to lose, and that is non-negotiable.
When I return to you on Monday, I might have more to say about this milestone, and I will definitely have more to say about my approach to 240. That’s the new 100 pounds, and that’s not going to take 796 days to reach.
But still, I’ll bask in the glow of this for just a little while.
When my accomplishment finally sunk in late Thursday night, I couldn’t help but to go through my old fat pictures, along with the photos I’ve taken as I’ve lost weight. There is a stark difference between that Dan and this Dan. And while I marveled over the before-and-after, I couldn’t actually take them seriously. I couldn’t imagine that it was the same person.
Technically, it is. Not much has changed as drastically as my weight. But the shedding of the weight itself is change enough. It is proof of commitment and want. It is material evidence of growing up and inching closer to becoming the man I want to be.
There was one picture that I’ll always remember. It is of my friend Jill and I at a bar in Detroit right before I began the 100 Days. There’s Jill, beautifully dressed for the Midwest winters, a bright smile with glowing skin. She’s got my hand around her shoulders, and I am resting my cheek against her head. I am smiling too, but my mouth is engulfed in fat. My double chin forms a horseshoe around my face, all the way up to my eyes.
I am wearing my gray button-up shirt because it was one of two that fit me back then. Most of this photo is taken up by my mass. The shirt is a never-ending blanket of material, not worn, but draped over a mushy lump of man.
I am at least three times Jill’s size. The distance from my back to the tip of my stomach easily reaches three feet. I look like zookeepers should be throwing me fish during feeding time.
I am drunk, but I know I wasn’t happy. I know I looked at Jill back then and knew that there was no way a woman like that could ever go for a man like me. Jill had a boyfriend back then, and they are married now. I had a weight problem back then, and I am on my way to eliminating it.
But I look at that photo and I know that version of me is dead. Instead I am here, 800 days later, 100 pounds lighter, a new man looking to change just one more time.Powered by Sidelines