I'm 26 years old. I'm 6'3, and I currently weigh 169lbs. I have a 32" waist. By no means do I look like a swimsuit model or a body builder, but I'm in pretty good shape. I eat relatively healthy, and work out 3-5 times a week, depending on my schedule.
I can't say much of that USED to be true.
I was raised in a household where both of my parents worked. I didn't receive much discipline about exercise or diet. In fact, growing up, there was very little exercise involved. I drank soda religiously, and Happy Meals were a staple of my diet. Needless to say, I was a fat kid. It started about the time I was 6, right about when my mom started working and dinner responsibilities were left to my dad, who was a big fan of cooking the quickest thing he could make--often the least healthy choices.
When I went to college at 18, I was left to do a lot of walking on campus. At 19 I was working at Wal-Mart part time, and spending a lot of time pushing trains of shopping carts uphill in Texas heat. For the first time in 12 years, I found myself really thin. I had grown so accustomed to my overweight body, I didn't pay much attention to my appearance. One day, my mom said I was looking way too thin. That's when I realized I really had lost a lot of weight. That's a good thing, although my daily diet constituted hamburgers, soda, candy...and not much else. But I was busting my ass at work so hard that I was burning more calories than I was taking in. I exploited my new size. Women loved me, and I loved them. I felt good, despite my poor diet.
A year later, I went to work in an office, where I spent a lot of time sitting...and eating. Not having good dietary habits, I kept eating poorly, and over the course of the next three years, put on enough weight that at my worst I weighed in at 228lbs. with a 38" waist. Just as I had not realized my previous weight loss, I had not consciously appreciated my weight gain. Friends I hadn't seen in a while commented on my size. Yet, I was in a bad relationship, overworked with school and work, and didn't think I had the heart to change.
A few days after I weighed myself at 228lbs. I started to realize exactly where I was. Women quickly averted looking at me. I felt physically terrible, worn out all the time, and more than slightly disgusted with myself. I decided at that time, CHANGE. I tried limiting my intake of soda and sweets, and pulled a few pounds off. But that was it.
A month or so later, my girlfriend at the time suggested we go on a cruise with her family, that I liked very much. I agreed, excited about getting to take a trip and leaving the country.
But I had a problem.
All my childhood, I was the fat kid who always wore a shirt in the pool, and avoided any activity that required me to remove my clothes. I had spent all that time ashamed of my body. And now I was about to throw down almost all the money to my name on a vacation that would surely result in swimming. I didn't want to be fatty on the boat. I decided I really wanted to dedicate myself to at least being presentable on the cruise.
I found a middle school a couple of blocks from my apartment and began walking laps on their track, and trying very hard to clean up the worst parts of my diet. I started reading, reading, reading on how to eat properly and work out. I read every fitness magazine (for men) I could find, and when I ran out of magazines started on the internet. I later paid for a year of access to the city rec center so I could use their gym.
In the time it takes for a baby to be conceived and delivered, I focused intently on losing weight before the cruise. I had goals out the ass. I had plans, I had diet plans I had written out, I kept logs, I counted calories, I had a work out schedule.
My goal was to move from the remaining 208lbs down to 170lbs. in those nine months. I stood on the scale each morning, excited to catch even half a pound of movement. Sure enough, day by day, calorie by calorie and minute by minute on the treadmill I managed to get myself down to 165lbs. the morning of the cruise.
It was a lot of work, but it taught me a lot about goals, and what I could really accomplish. I had never felt physically better in my life. I had a blast on the cruise.
After the cruise, I tried to stick to my plans, but not having the same important goal, I waned. I didn't gain weight back, but I quit going to the gym with any consistency and loosened up on my diet. I
wanted to get into the gym, but I didn't. Then I started working 50-60 hour weeks, and was physically and emotionally way too drained to do it.
At the beginning of this year, I made a commitment that I was going to get back on the healthy train. I wasn't very good the first half, but I've been really solid on it these past few months. I feel like I've mastered the art of staying at a good weight, and now I'm really delving into getting into the gym and trying to build muscle so I can walk around beaches kicking sand in people's faces. At least I think that's what I'm supposed to do. ;)
So I'll be passing on what I've learned about weight loss, and what I'm learning now about putting on some good muscle.
Specifically, these are my current goals:
1. Body fat less than 13%
2. Defined abs
3. 8 minute mile
4. Add 2 inches to arms (they are currently a paltry 13")
5. Be able to make my pecs bounce
(The last is just for fun.)
Cheers