The Beginning

Since this is the last week before my marathon, I thought it would be fitting to talk a little bit about the beginning.

As all of you know, the last 2 years have been a period of pretty dramatic change in my life. On December 26, 2008, I decided that I had had enough of being overweight and out of shape and set out to change it...all of it. I'm not done yet, and I won't be done when I cross the finish line in New York, but the trajectory has changed...permanently.

On Christmas day in 2008 I woke up full of the usual Christmas excitement and anxious to get the day started. I also woke up feeling...well...bloated. Christmas is far and away my favorite time of year, and between the parties, the trips to Duncanville to see the family and the office merriment, I had eaten my way through the holiday season (like any red blooded American). As I do every day (and sometimes multiple times a day) I stepped on the scale in my bathroom when I got home that night and after a few blinks it read "354". Sadly, I wasn't overly shocked or upset by that number. It had been a long time coming. I remember very clearly the day I stepped on the scale before college and it said "299". I vowed it would never say "300", but things happen, pizzas get eaten and next thing you know...bam...you're morbidly obese.

This revelation gave me no pause as I continued to enjoy the Christmas festivities and merry-making. But the next day, I stepped on my scale again. I waited for the screen to blink its customary blinks. I waited for a number somewhere in the neighborhood of 354 to pop up. I just waited...as per usual. When I looked down again, all the scale said was "Error."

I had broken the scale.

The earth did not shake. The lights did not flicker. I just knew, at that moment, it was time for things to change.

The picture on the left was taken about 6 months before I managed to break the scale...the picture on the right was taken 2 months ago after one of our Saturday 12 mile runs).

From that day until May 2009, the only thing I changed about my lifestyle was what I ate. I did go to the gym occassionally, but I really did not "workout" in any meaningful since of the word. By mid-May I had lost 30 pounds but had hit a wall. I was seeing (and still do see) a nutritionist named Jill Lane (http://www.jilllane.com/), who I adore, and we decided that the only way through the wall was through exercise.

Enter Kristi. My wee blonde friend was already planning to run the NYC marathon in November of 2009. She was investigating running programs and had decided to sign up with Luke's Locker to train for the summer. At some point we must have discussed my need/desire to get serious with my exercise, because Kristi encouraged me to sign up for a program at Luke's called Get With It...which was designed for people "just like me" who had never run before...the program was supposed to take you from zero to a half marathon in 6 months. I remember telling Kristi that I wouldn't and couldn't run and that was final. I also remember climbing onto a treadmill with Kristi on the next machine and hearing her say "all you have to do is run for 1 minute...that's it, just 1 minute." And so I did. At the end of that minute I decided (possibly due to the pure pain and exhaustion I was no doubt feeling at that moment) that I would give it a go.

Later that night, I called MK to tell her that I had lost it. Before I could finish completing the sentence which started "I've decided to sign up for a running..." MK's response was "I'm in."

Now it's been almost 2 years. I've lost 90 pounds and about 15% body fat. I weighed 264 when I stepped on the scale this morning...which is only 40 pounds from where I want to end up. Like I said, I'm not done yet.

When I look back over the past 2 years I am struck by something that may seem odd to people who have never struggled with their weight. When I look back, I don't remember a single thing that I didn't eat. Two years ago I viewed passing up food as passing up an opportunity...I would never be able to eat that exact thing again and I had to seize the moment or regret letting it pass me by. Wasn't I taught to live life to the fullest! My happiness was contingent on what I consumed. Now it's only influenced by what I don't.

Success in life is not measured by your waist size. Perhaps more importantly, neither is failure. But I do think success is measured by little victories. So far I can count 90 little victories. And on Sunday I will count 26.2 more.

Timmy