From the moment I lost considerable weight, I have been approached by people and companies looking to align my success with their products.
Recently I haven’t been eating clean. I haven’t been training well. I haven’t been sleeping well and I have struggled to get out of bed, to enjoy any of the activities that normally make me smile or to even shave (currently sporting a poor excuse of a beard).
It hasn’t gone unnoticed at home, where I am more irritable, more grumpy and eating more than I should be. Even as I write this!
I’ve had a bout of sickness and a wee dose of the cold, but the truth is I recognise these symptoms. I have experienced them before. When I was morbidly obese.
Then, as now, I was suffering from depression. There, I said it.
If you read this blog or follow my tweets or Facebook updates, you will maybe question how I can dare to say that I am depressed. I have a wonderful partner, two smashing boys, an amazing mum and the opportunity to do so many things. I even ask myself what right I have to feel depressed. But, I know I am.
On Facebook and twitter and among friends I have been trying my best to pretend that I am ok, but I’ve probably been dropping hints. I’ve slept in for PT sessions, I’ve struggled to write and complete tasks and I have been (over) reacting to too many posts on obesity by fitness professionals who are anything but professional in their opinion of the obese (but that is another blog).
Ask me what is making me depressed and I might struggle to pinpoint it. Like most people I have regrets, fears and I have stuff going on in my life that I wish wasn’t. I’ve lost friends and seem to be losing my way. As I continue to eat, I think of the Biggest Loser contestants who regained their weight and my old fear, that I too will again become obese, resurfaces. I have began to doubt myself and as my doubts increase, my eating and my weight increases. Self medication and self sabotaging.
It is a vicious cycle and one I must turn around.
I am not wanting medication and I am not wanting sympathy. Writing this and speaking to my girlfriend has been cathartic, even if some may judge me. But it hasn’t rid me of the dark clouds that hang over me. I guess, like the Black Dog in the video below, I will never be free of them, but I can try and prevent them from clouding my judgement or from preventing me from realising my dreams.
I can find new activities to keep my try athlete life alive and I can clean out my life. I have made a clean break from some people who made me feel low and I need to focus on my goals and on the people who I value and who value me. I can stop seeing and talking about myself as fat.
More importantly, I will use the poly pill of physical activity to make me feel better about life and about myself. Exercise works and it worked for me when I was morbidly obese. Hopefully, it will work again and if needed, I will reach out to professionals.
In January 2011 I made a decision that transformed my life. I decided that I would not accept the future that lay ahead of me. I would not accept that I was worthless, useless and destined to be morbidly obese until the day I died (most likely prematurely).
I took the small step that I always advocate of becoming more active.
It has served me well. I lost considerable weight, gained prestigious roles and enjoyed experiences that money couldn’t buy. More importantly, I gained confidence and despite a few bumps, I was healthier and happier.
It is now January 2015 and it is time for another decision. For the past two years I have accepted that I’ll never be athletic looking. Sure, I am very active and lead the life of a try athlete, but I’ll never grace the cover of Men’s Health.
This blog is filled with the activities I try and I often celebrate the fact that I am not the fastest nor the most skilled. I try and I don’t care. Except, that I do.
I do care that I’m slow and not as fit or strong as I should or want to be. I do care that despite losing 150 lbs that I am STILL obese. I had accepted that I was fat and fit, which you will know isn’t such a bad thing, if you also read my Faculty of Sport and Exercise Medicine blogs.
I started this blog to chart my journey and somewhere along the road I stopped progressing, I stopped believing that anything was possible. I stopped believing in myself.
It’s time I started to believe again and it’s time to take a new direction and to take the next step.
In 2015 I will complete my transformation, starting with the next twelve weeks. Starting today, I will participate in the USN Body Makeover Challenge and each week, you will be able to follow my progress here, via the SFN Expo and at Man V Fat.
It’s time to go from fat and fit to simply fit. And with the Paris Marathon also in twelve weeks, I have extra motivation.
After 4 weeks of Personal Training with Scott Devenney PT and Christine Docherty , weekly classes of Zumba, Metafit and Kettlercise with Southside Metafit and Kettlebells, some active travel, more sleep and healthier food choices, I am starting to see results.
The scales say I have lost 11lbs but this is only half the story.
What encourages me even more is seeing that my arms and legs are in fact bigger (arms are an inch bigger) and my body fat has dropped by over 6% according to my body fat scales. More telling and more pleasing is that, according to my girfriend, I am developing nice hard bumps across my entire body. My jeans and tops are fitting me (again) and I’ve lost inches off my chest, waist and hips. I have more energy and and more determination to continue. I feel less self conscious, more confident and happy again.
When I was piling on the pounds and not running, not training and overeating, I feared that I was going to be yet another example of huge weight loss followed by huge weight gain.
I had lost my enthusiasm, my spark and my awesomeness (don’t worry, that’s back). I saw no way of climbing out of my spiralling descent back into inactivity and felt like a fraud as I wrote blogs for Spogo and National Fitness Day.
If you are wondering what the secret to my recent success has been, to me getting more active again and putting away the cake, it was the same things that trigger and motivate most successful behavioural changes.
I identified goals (Oz in Dec and Paris Marathon in April) that I wanted to be fit for. I joined several weight loss group (Man V Fat, a FaceBook group and Weigh in at Work) to give me accountability and a little competition.
However, more importantly I was encouraged, supported and joined in my efforts, by my girlfriend, Teresa.
On nights when I’d have happily sat on the couch, she urged me to get up and join her at her local classes, where I might of been one of only two men, but where I was made to feel welcome.
We cannot underestimate the importance of a nurturing environment and supportive social interaction.
Teresa and I train together and we have fun together. We use My Fitness Pal together, we run together at Great Run Local and we compare results together (Teresa’s competitiveness is frightening). Together, we are an awesome team.
Teresa is too modest, but she is experiencing similar results and if anything is looking even better than I am (although she always has, obviously).
The changes we have made aren’t ground breaking. We’ve cut down on snacking, are reducing our portion sizes and are trying to make better choices, more often. We are doing activities we enjoy (more about them later) and trying to be more active, throughout the day.
There are no magic pills, juices or shakes. No shortcuts and no quick fixes.
It’s unlikely that I’ll have a six pack in 9 weeks (regardless of what certain men’s magazines promise) but I will feel more comfortable in shorts and in the water.
The prospect of “Taps Aff” won’t also fill me with dread.
I haven’t always been able to say that. Three years ago I weighed 354lbs (over 25 stone). If you had suggested any exercise, I’d have run a mile (sadly, not literally).
But then, a friend changed my life. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. My family and friends had used many more over the years, imploring me to lose weight. I had made a few lame and short lived attempts in the past and like many dieters I gained more than I lost.
I never felt ready. I never felt able. I never felt that my weight prevented me from doing anything I wanted to do. I argued that I didn’t smoke and that I didn’t drink. I was fat, but I was relatively healthy (possibly more healthy than an unfit person of normal weight). The truth was that I was in denial.
But then, a friend took and shared that photograph. It was the photograph that stopped me in my tracks and the photograph that set me on a new course of action. It is a photograph that I keep on me at all times. To remind me of how I was, what I was and how far my journey has taken me.
I wanted to get more active and to feel healthier. I wanted to feel happy and I wanted to regain my confidence, libido and energy that obesity had stolen from me. I wanted to feel like a man again.
But then, I was over 350lbs. What could I do? So, I started by walking and as the pounds fell off I began searching for other ways to get active. Before my weight loss, running a bath was a problem. Once I got in, there wasn’t much room for the water. The idea of running to lose weight was absurd and the thought of running for pleasure was beyond me.
I did, however decide to try running in September 2011 when my friends asked me to grow a moustache for Movember. Being facially folically challenged and 100lbs lighter, I instead committed to running the Mo Running 5K and set about starting a Couch to 5K programme. Alternating walking and running between lamp posts. Within weeks, I was running more than I was walking. More importantly I was surprisingly enjoying every bit of it and looking forward to my next run and to my first competitive race at Mo Running. I wasn’t the fastest but I did overtake a few runners and even managed a sprint (well, ok maybe a dash) across the finishing line recording a personal best of under 27 minutes which might not seem great but it made me puff my chest with pride and not just exhaustion.
In December I was again competing in another “facial hair” inspired race, the annual “Santa Dash”. Along with several thousand other Santas we raced through the city streets and although my Santa suit and beard was not the most ergonomic or comfortable of outfits I was still able to leap over stray dogs, side swerve errant mothers with push chairs and tackle a relatively large incline (all my previous runs had been on the flat). I was far removed from fitting the role of the jolly fat man, but I knew I had further to go, before I’d be happy.
But then, the taunts and jeers of white van men and boy racers stopped me in my tracks. I felt humiliated, I felt hopeless and I felt hatred. Mostly I hated myself. I was so close to giving up and accepting that I couldn’t change. Despite being a shadow of my former self, I was still obese and it weighed heavily on my mind.
I couldn’t go on. Once again, I was a failure.
But then, my anger and frustration led to grit and determination. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t give in to the taunts and my own self doubt. I could and I would run. I started with 5Ks and then progressed to 10Ks before entering my first Great Scottish Half Marathon then more and longer races. I have completed Tough Mudder, Spartan Beast and my first Marathon in Copenhagen. I now run to work, I run at weekends and I scour the country looking to add new bibs and new medals to my collection. I have continued to lose weight and I am now almost half the size I was.
I am also now looking forward to launching Great Run Local Glasgow, in partnership with Great Run and with the support of friends and the team at Run 4 It. Designed to provide a short and timed weekly run for new runners, it’s a chance for me to give something back. I am not a philosopher or even a particularly great runner, but I am passionate about running and all forms of physical activity and I will do what I can do support and inspire others.
I am now a runner. Will you join me?
We’ve seen the reports. The level of inactivity in our children is a ticking time bomb. Half of those aged seven don’t get enough exercise.
With two young boys in my life, I try to be a positive influence on their lives. I try to encourage them to switch off the TV and go do something more interesting instead.
So when they ask my how many miles we have walked, if they can come race with me in the Great Scottish Run and if they can sign up to rugby, it fills my heart with pride. Even tonight the eldest stated his main goal at Cubs was to get his “Athletics” badge.
I like to think that I somehow inspire them; that they want to be a bit like me.
Being a “dad” is as new to me as not being fat and I make mistakes. But I’m enjoying it more than I ever thought and I so don’t want them to be obese (small mercy they don’t have my genes, because we all know obesity is in the genes) or unhappy.
I want them to have a good and healthy life. I want them to enjoy being active. I want them to see healthy eating as the norm and not a punishment. They are already doing better than me as they love broccoli
And it seems I am not alone. Absolutely delighted to see them issued, at school, with a “Health AND Homework diary. It asks them to rate their daily key targets of eating healthily, sleeping, brushing teeth and being active.
If those aren’t enough, I think it is wonderful that they are encouraged to do something nice for someone each day. Promoting physical and emotional well-being.
Well done South Glasgow Primary Schools. Together, schools and parents/guardians can ensure healthier and more active lives for our kids.
For over two years now, I have been trying to lose weight. And I have been successful. I have lost lots of weight. Over 12 stone gone and well on the way to reaching my target weight. I have gone from a size xxxxl to size medium and I have embraced physical activity.
I should be delighted. And in many ways I am. I am fitter and happier than I have ever been.
However, in my pursuit of weight loss, I have developed an obsession. I have scales at home and it is a great set of scales. I love my scales. No, I really love my scales. There is not a day goes by that I don’t pay it a visit. Some days I even say hello more than once. I track my morning weight, my evening weight and even my post exercise and eating weights. I love analysing the fluctuating readings. I live to see the readings drop.
I hate my scales. Somedays I am heavier than the day before. Somedays I eat clean and exercise lots and the scales don’t even move. Somedays it even registers a 2 or 3 lb gain only to see it disappear two days later, but not before it has left me deflated. Rather than being a useful tool to monitor my progress, it has became the barometer of my state of mind and it dictates my behaviours (which are normally eat less and do more). I know this and still I cannot resist stepping onto it.
And, in my pursuit of weightloss, I have taken my eye off the prize. I hated and hate being fat. Despite being relatively fit, I still look in the mirror naked and see fat. When I am doing star jumps, push ups and and mountain climbers, I am painfully aware of the fat that hangs dripping from my body. I want to lose this fat. So why do I measure my weight loss when in actual fact I should be measuring my fat loss? By focusing on weight loss, I am negelecting the need to maintain (and increase) lean tissue.
When I first started I weighed 354 lbs and had 185 lbs of fat and 169 lbs of lean tissue. Now, weighing in at 181 lbs I have 36 lbs of fat and 145 lbs of lean tissue.
In my pursuit of weightloss, I love potentially lost 24 lbs of fat burning lean tissue. This may seem a reasonable sacrifice as I am no longer having to carry and move a substantially heavier body, but this video below reminded me of the importance of focusing on the fat.
So, starting from today, I am am going to change my focus. My weight is no longer the metric that will dictate my life or be the measure of my success. From today, I am going to focus on fat loss and use scales (and not even my scales) to measure my body fat percentage.
And from today, I am going to end my need to constantly weigh myself. I will weigh in once a week using the scales at Forward Fitness where my good friend Elle will also measure the centremetres lost, another better way of measuring progress than scales alone.
At my heaviest I ate a lot. I ate a lot of the time and I ate a lot of the wrong stuff. Had I not seen “that” picture, there was a real danger that I would literally eat till I dropped. I loved eating that much that I once went to the toilet in a “Eat All You Want” pizza restaurant to make myself vomit. I wasn’t anorexic, I simply wanted to create more space in my stomach so I could eat all that I wanted to.
But all that has changed and if anything I now eat too little.
Too little!? Surely if I cut down on my food, I’ll simply lose fat more quickly? That was how I used to think. Luckily I have many friends who are Personal Trainers, Nutritionists and Medics. While in addition to being a geek, I am also embarking upon my own fitness education journey with Faster who are not only supporting my continued training but also my professional development.
But not everyone has the circle of friends and mentors that I have. Most are confused by the marketing of slimming companies, of food companies and even by health professionals and purveyors of multi level marketing products.
Eat less fat, eat more fat, eat no carbohydrates, eat only complex carbohydrates, don’t eat fruit, only eat fruit and a million other lose fat quickly diets and drinks that are usually based on eliminating certain food types, drinking expensive and heavily processed shakes and drinks or by reducing calories.
Now, there are those who say calories don’t matter. There are those that say ditch the scales. And guess what? Both are probably right.
But let’s be honest. Every fat person who wants to lose weight counts calories and stands on a scale….often daily and throughout the day.
And every fat person thinks I ate too much and got big, so I’ll eat less and lose weight. And I’ll eat a lot less and lose weight even quicker.
And we will. And probably quite a lot. At first. Eventually our bodies will respond to being starved by slowing down, by conserving energy. It’s a smart cookie ( sorry, shouldn’t mention cookies). And the weight loss will slow down and eventually stop.
I could bore you with all the science and research ( there’s lots of it), but we all know what we do next.
We reduce our calories further. And we start doing more cardio. My next post will focus on why that’s the second mistake most of us make, but for now let’s concentrate on the calories.
We reduce them and the scales start again moving in the right direction. But and it’s a big but ( no puns please), the weight loss isn’t necessary fat loss. Our body (smart cookie, remember) is worried. It’s went from having an abundance of lovely food to now being starved. And it’s not sure how bad it’s going to get. So it decides that it’ll keep the stored fat until it really needs it and starts looking for other sources of energy. But we aren’t eating fat, carbs or anywhere near enough calories so the body starts breaking down lean body tissue…ie our muscles. Rather than losing fat we are losing weight and our metabolism slows further. We find that we put on weight if we even eat a little more than normal.
So we cut calories again and do even more exercise. It’s a vicious cycle and minds smarter than mine have written extensively on the dangers of metabolic damage. Google it.
So, what should we do? What is the right way smarty pants, I hear you ask.
Well, I’d recommend that you calculate your Basal Metabolic Rate, which is the amount of calories your body needs to simply survive. General advice is that you then aim to eat about 500 kcals less. With some suggesting that obese people can reduce it by 10-30%
But here’s an idea. Rather than cutting calories why not try switching foods. Eat more veg (chips don’t count) and ditch your refined white bread and pasta for leafy green veg and rice.
But please don’t go down the route of very low calorie diets. It’s a recipe ( always food) for disaster. It’s so tempting to stop eating and to exercise more. I know this because, despite my knowledge, I am STILL guilty of it myself.
I know I should eat more. Especially as I now weight train. But, I’ve conditioned myself to believe that eating food is bad. I’ve been dieting so long and lost so much that part of me resists my new found knowledge. Thankfully I’m improving. Like many, I want to rid myself of the fat that limited my life and my happiness. And I want to do it now.It took me 10 years to go from a normal weight to over 25st and I can’t expect to reverse that overnight. Better to adopt healthy eating that will sustain me and be sustainable. Food is fuel for my body and it will not run smoothly on an empty tank.
Eat more and drop a dress size. Now that’s a diet that should sell.
Although I will no doubt, at some point this week, look back on my highlights of the year and in many ways it was an amazing year (any year that we and the ones we love experience good health, is, I suppose a good one), I firstly wanted to reflect on something else; on something maybe a little different from many of the other end of year blogs and on something that might just reveal (maybe a little too revealing) a few things about me, that might just resonate with a few of you and hopefully, if anyone recognises similar “things”, might make you take action now.
As I mentioned in my earlier post, I’ve accumulated some extra baggage these past few weeks and I’m determined not to let a slip derail me. So it got me thinking.
What are the things I don’t miss? What are the things that the old Stephen hated and what are things that I never ever want to see, feel or experience again? What are the Bad Things about being not just obese, but morbidly obese?
This year, I intend on experiencing many new things but first let’s look at some of the old things I that I’ve thankfully put behind me. They’re not in any order other than when I think of them (this blog maybe isn’t as polished as most, as I just write what I’m thinking).
- Candida- I’m nothing, if not honest and apologies to those that I’m possibly about to disgust, but I believe in warts and all. This is one weight related complaint that I’m happy to be rid of. The smell, the rash and the moisture that it caused under the folds of my skin weren’t the most attractive and were one of many things that made me constantly self aware.
- Plantar Fasciitis- Every morning, makng those first few steps was agonising. I would struggle to make it to the toilet and on many occassion had to reach out to the wall for support.
- Sitting Down to do the Toilet– Well it does lead on from the previous. The folds of my belly (ies) made the traditional means of urinating impossible and I had to sit down, taking extra care to direct my stream. This is maybe a little too honest, but I more than once had accidents caused by the fat around my mid section.
- Intimacy– Not only was it physically difficult to make love, with a sore back, poor stamina and breathlessness, but my obesity severely affected my ability to attain and maintain an erection (hell, I’m even surprising myself with the openness of this revelation, but then again, it’s basic science). I was also never comfortable being naked. I thought that my form would disgust my wife, just as it disgusted myself. Even now, I’m still not 100% comfortable with how I look naked, but then, who does? Even cuddles were impractical as I could never hold someone close or hold them tight.
- Self Loathing– Despite telling others I was fine, despite puting a smile on for the camera and despite being the first to self depricate, I hated what I had become. I often felt hopeless and useless. I hated myself for being unable to change; for being unable to restrict my eating and for being unable to control my cravings.
- Cravings– One biscuit, sweet or chunk of chocolate was never and will never be enough for me. In the bad old days, I’d eat some junk only to go hunting for more….lots more! And I was like a bloodhound. I could locate the stashes of sweets that my wife felt compelled to hide from me. And once those stashes were exhausted I would then eat the stuff that initially I had ignored for tastier items. I was like a shark, frenzied by blood. I make no bones about using the animal references as my behaviour was that of a wild animal. Be it leptins or plain greed, I was never satisfied and once made myself sick so that I could eat more. Now, that’s what I call an eating disorder!
- My Mum’s Tears– This one is maybe cheating, as she has only recently revealed this to me. But my mum used to cry herself to sleep worrying about my weight; worrying about how her son was likely to enter an early grave and how she would have to bury him. Just knowng, that I’ve taken just one weight (pardon the pun) off my mum’s shoulders is ammunition enough to keep me rightous.
- My Own Tears– I’m not afraid to admit it. I cried. Maybe it was the increased estrogen in my moobs ( I’d like to say that I’m well shot of these too, but still got a bit to go), or the fact that I’m a sensitive guy, but I was never blind to my obesity and would regulary share a tear when I was…
- Feeling that Everyone was Laughing at Me– Some argue that obesity is becoming socially acceptable…not in my world. Everytime I struggled to get on and off the bus ( I used to stand at the front, regardless of whether there were seats); everytime I entered a clothes shop and looked in desperation for size xxxxl jeans and shirts (soon all I wore was baggy, loose fitting sweat pants and jerseys…..not ironic, just really sad); everytime my belt snapped or trousers ripped with the pressure; everytime I had to explain my job role was a “Lean Practitioner” (like Six Sigma); everytime I took off my winter jacket, only to realise that I had soaked my shirt in perspiration: everytime kids said; “Mummy, look at that fat man” and everytime I ordered a Diet Coke and two Quarterpounders I worried that people were just about to burst out laughing. And sometimes my fears were warranted, Because, laugh they did.
- Isolation– Ok, this one was partly self imposed but it was still mainly (I’m still quite shy) weight related. I didn’t go out. I didn’t attend work parties. I stopped playing badminton and football. I didn’t want to be seen in public and eventually I didn’t even attend my my parents in law’s Sunday dinner. I’m still not exactly a social butterfly, but I’m no longer housebound.
- Fatism-People are Fattist. FACT. And let’s ne honest, can we blame them? How stupid must I have been not to recognise and act on my obesity? How greedy must I have been to get so large and how lazy must have I been? Everytime I applied for a job, only to see someone less talented get selected; everytime I made a valid point in a meeting or everytime I saw somone looking at me disdainfully I felt judged on how I looked rather than who I was. Even now, it pains me to see how fat people are portrayed and treated. But, at least now, I’m not victim to it.
I could go on and might some day revisit this list (with maybe some more light hearted “things”) but this has been quite emotionally draining and as cathartic as it’s been, it’s all a bit dark. Prior to this blog my earlier writing was lighter, funnier and easier to read. Let me know what you think and in 2013 I might try to make you smile a bit more.
I’m not new to dieting. This wasn’t the first time I had declared that I was going to get fit and it wasn’t the first time I had vowed to succeed. But deep down, I knew something was different. This time I wouldn’t launch myself into a restrictive starvation mode eating pattern. This time I would do it right. This time I would use my failures to fuel my success
And I did this EVERY Friday for 10 months. Often accompanying it with a bag of sports gums. For Friday was my cheat day. Now, I am not here to say that my method of weight loss is better than anyone else’s but I can only testify to what worked for me. And I tried a fair few things to varying degrees of success.
And Pizza Friday worked…for me. All week I enjoyed a diet of chicken, fish, pork and beef with complex carbohydrates. But on Fridays I loaded myself with starch and sugar. And it was heaven. Pizza had never tasted so fine and any time I felt like wavering, I just thought of the coming Friday. And if that wasn’t enough, I’d go and stand outside the nearest takeaway.
Remember, I did say that I tried a fair few things.
One of these was Specific Olfactory Stimulation (an SOS to the brain). According to people a lot smarter than me: ” inhaling the scents of food, in the absence of food, causes early satiety, squelches food cravings and decreases appetite by “fooling” the brain into thinking that one has eaten a proportional amount of food. In the end, this process turns off hunger, helps the user to stop eating sooner and thus controls the amount of food consumed ‐ a direct link to caloric consumption”…It also makes you look a bit weird as you hold your head up high and sniff the air. But hey, as you’ll learn, I am a try anything kind of guy and surprisingly, it worked….for me.
Reference:
http://www.slimscents.com/pdf/olfactorystimulation.pdf