I was like most guys I know, married….lazy (even though we don’t realize we are) and fell into the “rut” of life.
Funny thing about the “rut” of life….the only difference between a rut and a grave? The length. I actually read that recently and it hit me upside the head like a bat.
Looking back I saw my complacency and realized I had no one to blame other than me. I was the one who went to Taco Bell at midnight and stuffed my face. I was the one who would go to fast food chains and consume 3500 calories. So why was I shocked when I woke up one day and was 255lbs and my size 38 jeans were TIGHT?!?
I was 33 years old when my fitness journey started. Like I said, I was 255lbs, had a horrible fall off the roof of my house and had to be taken to the hospital. The ER doctor said I was lucky that I didn’t end up dead or paralyzed, the reason? Her words “Because you had so much girth around your waist, it protected your spine.”
There’s something about a doctor in a hospital telling you that your girth saved your spine, from being paralyzed or dead. It’s an awakening moment.
Yes, being fat saved my life. That’s the weirdest news I’ve ever gotten and didn’t exactly know how to feel. I was happy to be alive while at the same time it gave me the “ah-ha” moment that forced me to make the change. I was tired of being that insecure, overweight, out of shape dad/husband.
No longer would I be the guy who would be afraid to take his shirt off at the pool or beach.