Last August, aged 31 and weighing in at a staggering 480lbs, I told myself enough was enough. I'd already missed out on an entire fucking lifetime of experiences up until that point and did not want the second half of my life to be an entire waste as well. So for the first time in my entire history, I did something uncomfortable. Previously, I'd have run off at the first sign of discomfort, but this time I stuck it out and became an absolute fucking beast. Specifically, I took up boxing. That was the fun and engaging yet super active thing I found- it was the first intense physical activity ever that actually grabbed me, and I put up with the extreme discomfort, especially in those early days/weeks/months, because the feeling of progressing was so addictive. Not to mention punching stuff just felt good.
Along with this, I began some strength and conditioning training, and of course watching what I ate. My diet previously had absolutely no semblance of regularity, I just ate what I wanted when I wanted, without any consequence or regard whatsoever. I would estimate in excess of 5,000 cal/day, somedays less (rarely). The older I got though, the more I tried to make wiser food choices... which admittedly didn't account for much- it might've entailed choosing Diet Coke over regular Coke (but still having other sugary drinks sometimes), not getting bacon when it was an optional topping, going for all you can eat sushi instead of to the Chinese buffet, etc. So a real stretch to call them "wiser food choices", but it's all relative I suppose.
But anyways, when I started the training, I did a drastic caloric cut to about 2,000 cal/day, many times consuming barely even 1,500. Everyone knew it wouldn't be longterm sustainable coming where I was coming from, and so did I. I just went with it until I couldn't anymore. Then I upped it to about 2,500, which is more or less where I've tried to stay since. I also maintained a strict IF of 18:6-20:4, sometimes OMAD. For whatever reason, this wasn't nearly as hard as I would've thought, especially when I was starting out. I was just so unbelievable dedicated/committed. There were even several instances in which I went out with friends or to friends houses to watch fights/sporting events and the tables would be full of all the junk I used to love to scarf down... pizza, wings, etc.... and I wouldn't have anything other than water- even my friends were shocked at my iron will.
Boxing was the majority source of activity for me for many months. I had a coach I saw one-on-one daily. When I started, it was 2-3 times a week, but slowly I kept adding more and more, until it was daily, not even a rest day. Eventually he moved further away and I couldn't see him anymore, but joined a gym where my friend goes. The gym was boxing/MMA-focused but also had a great weight and cross training area, including all the machines you could imagine. I still focused on boxing, but now without a coach. I also had a heavy bag at home which I'd hit every night, at first barely able to complete 3-4 x 3 minute rounds, but eventually made myself to 12 x 3 minute rounds with a minute or two rest in-between rounds. Do you know how difficult this is to do, regardless of your size, but especially at my size? It was/is impressive. At the gym I was able to start doing some light sparring with people and still try to do that at least twice a week. Usually I can go up to 4-6 rounds, as sparring is much, much, more intense than a bag workout or hitting mitts, since you're moving with another person which is hitting back at you. My achievements, my abilities, at my size were/are impressive- they're impressive for someone a third my size, but especially for someone this big- I just thank whoever is up there for the fact that my body has still been able to do these things without much hardship, because I know I could've been on things a lot worse at the rate I was going. I've had pro fighters and fitness professionals remark how great my mobility is, PERIOD, not mentioning for someone my size. Ditto my cardio. Just last week I sparred a guy weighing probably 150lbs less than me who had to tap out after just a minute and a half... meanwhile I routinely go 4-6 rounds sparring, 12 rounds heavy bag, and up to an hour on elliptical with a resistance of 15. I actually stopped doing the boxing as much a few weeks ago in order to focus more on weights, as the added muscle will burn more calories passively, while doing mostly cardio as I was would eventually maybe leave me "skinny fat", which is of course better than where I am now or where I came from, but I'd like to have some definition and need the muscle built up anyways. I still do the boxing, just not daily anymore. I also go on a 1-1.5hr walk most nights.
But it's all for nothing, because the past three months I've stayed the same weight... around 360lbs... but the past week have actually put on 15lbs, up to 375lbs now... a number when I saw it on the way down, I swore I'd never reach again. Why am I making these fucking mistakes? I know objectively, wholeheartedly, that I am straying from the path which will get me where I want to be, yet I continue to stray; to make these damn mistakes day after day, lately multiple times a day. I am actively failing, and what makes it worse is recognizing that i'm doing so yet not having the power to stop it! I was down to exactly 350 a few weeks ago, but have put on 25lbs since, despite killing myself at the gym for 2-3 hours daily. I've eaten imperfect every damn day for months now. Not anywhere near as bad as I before this new lifestyle, but much worse than I ought to be. And just tonight I got this immense craving for KFC which I hadn't had in many months... I just couldn't turn the craving off, it was as bad as it used to be at my worse... that bottomless pit type of hunger which requires you to eat until you feel like vomiting. The kind of hunger that used to prompt me to steal money from my own parents just so that I could get that damn hit... I'd steal their money and drive to the nearest McDonald's at 3am, ordering two Big Mac's, 20 nuggets, 2 large fries, 2 Junior Chicken sandwiches, a large McFlurry... this was that exact same hunger tonight, and it bothers me like you cannot begin to comprehend. I feel myself actively slipping, losing to the addiction which I was able to push away for the past several months... and, again, despite fully recognizing what's happening, I cannot stop it... "I'm starting fresh Monday- going clean and strict again" has been uttered by me at least the past dozen weeks, yet I remain stuck. Why, why, why... I don't want to go back up on the scale ever again, certainly nowhere near where I used to be. Now I can't tell people "I lost 130lbs" or even "I lose 120lbs"... This is killing me. It's all in my hands, but my mind is robbing me of my ability to control my actions- I'm succumbing to something nasty inside of me which wants to see me fail. It is THE single most demotivating feeling, working away so hard at the gym for hours a day, coming home sore and exhausted, but the number on the scale staying the same or going up because of your awful dietary choices. I was doing so fucking well and now see all the progress slipping away in front of me. My goal no longer seems just within reach as it even did just a couple of weeks ago- I kept thinking "wow, I'm more than halfway there- just another 100lbs to go... doesn't seem so hard anymore, especially now that I've already lost 130lbs... just 100 more! easy work!". The feeling of progress slipping away is palpable. I am losing to an addiction which I was able to tuck away for a few months, but never treated it at its root. This is not like the plateaus I encountered before or the times I cheated a few days in a row... this is bigger and worse. The underlying addiction is surfacing with a vengeance. I am now officially loosing. Even at 350lbs, the lowest I got, I started to look more like a normal human... still of course a big guy, but not like before... I was gaining confidence, starting to talk to girls more, trying to make up for all the lost time that a lifetime of being so overweight cost me... I got a brief glimpse into some semblance of normalcy, but now the abyss pulls me back and I can't help myself.
