Fat, Empathetic, and Determined

Update: I've eliminated almost all drinking, not that I was much of a drinker. I'm limiting my fried foods which have always been my weakness and trying to get back to my regular work-out routine. Right now, I'm skiing and that is a great calorie and fat burner, but that isn't anything regular. What's clear is this ain't gonna be easy and it ain't gonna happen quickly. Biggest challenge ahead...Cruise with my wife and in-laws (who I like). At least I can work-out EVERY DAY in the gym there and I'll have NO excuses!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm a guy in his fifties who never had a weight problem. And, never understood those that did. And, even had some disdain for those that did. After all, I stayed fit and thin all my life. All I did was exercise, eat sort of well, and it was easy. I didn't snack, didn't drink soft drinks, didn't drink too much, and thought I was a saint.

But, a ski accident changed all that (see my "Head Injuries Hub"). I broke a couple of bones, was knocked unconscious, and had some bleeding in the brain. Evidently, there was no serious damage though my neurologist said he had patients with better MRI's who had major problems while my wife asserted the accident just aggravated the existing brain damage.

I thought I was lucky as I was able to go back to the gym pretty quickly and, at least, resume doing cardio. But, I soon noticed I was gaining weight.

Time-out.

I'm a guy in his mid-fifties and I've weighed, give or take 5-10 pounds, 175 my whole life (since college). I am pretty darn hyper. I eat what I want, as briefly outlined earlier, and don't have any significant eating disorders other than a serious love of french fries, done crispy!

Within a couple of weeks of this accident, I was tipping the scales at 190! What the ...!!! Oh Yeah, I'd just do my usual that had always worked before and work out a little harder, cut back a little on my frozen yogurt at night, and it'd be gone in a week, at the most. That usually worked. Not this time.

I cut out the yogurt. I worked out harder, period. This went on. And on. Friends said it was normal, that your metabolism slows down with age. I said, "BullS*#@t!, it doesn't happen like a light switch, literally overnight!" I continued to gain weight. I stopped weighing myself.

My wife said, "You're breaking the deal," when my belly began resembling Homer Simpson's. As we were a second marriage, she was really being truthful, since we were both in our fifties when we met, both fit, both thin, and shortly after we married, I put a permanent bowling ball where my flat stomach used to be.

The fact that if I said the same thing to her, I'd be killed, is irrelevant as that double standard is just reality and she still loves me and she's right. I tried harder. I skipped some meals and my beloved french fries (sometimes).

Finally, I went to see my doctor. He said there's a theory that we're all born with a "set-point" as it relates to our weight and it was possible, just theoretically, that the accident re-set my "set-point" to a higher weight. And, that now I would have to diet and watch what I ate like most people! Heaven forbid, I thought.

I completely dropped any after dinner eating. I ate a smaller breakfast. I combined breakfast and lunch into one meal. I worked out harder. My weight continued to grow.

My wife, by now, wants me to get a new wardrobe as nearly all my pants no longer fit. She's taken some to the tailor to be taken out -- those that could, and we did get me a couple of larger size jeans. I was wearing my shirts out and not buttoning up other pants.

The other day, I went back to my Internist and was FORCED to go on the scale. When we had to set it to the 200 mark, and then above, I fainted. After three nurses came in to pick me up, the first two couldn't, they weighed me in at 210.

I don't think I heard a word the doc said. I walked out in a daze. I passed another "overweight" man or woman. I looked at him or her with empathy, for the first time in my life. "It's really hard to lose weight" I mouthed. I saw that obese kid and worried about how he or she would deal with their G*d-given "set-point" from birth that stunk, while I'd been blessed most of my life with a "free pass."

I learned a lesson. In empathy. In NOT judging others until you've walked a mile in their shoes, as the song goes.

I'm going to lose my 35 extra pounds. I promise myself and I promise my wife. And, I promise NEVER to have a disparaging thought towards another overweight person again!