The Story of How I Lost 70 Pounds in 8 Months
No starving, no diet pills, and no pink drinks.
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, there lived a hobbit.
Oh, but this was no ordinary hobbit, you see. This was a fat hobbit. A very, very fat hobbit. A disgustingly obese and atrociously unhealthy hobbit.
It was me. I was the hobbit.
The year was 2018. I had just celebrated the New Year the way I always did; with copious amounts of food and 20 or so bottles of craft beer. I was working a desk job, where I had been for a couple of years now, and my life had become almost completely sedentary. I rolled out of bed and stepped on the scale, like most of us do on Day 1 of the New Year, eager to get started failing at another New Year’s resolution.
The scale read 290 pounds.
This wasn’t really outside of the norm for me, at this point in my life. I had been steadily gaining weight for years now, and wasn’t really too concerned about it. Sure, I felt tired all the time, and had frequent headaches and back pain and my knees felt as though they were perpetually on fire, but overall, life was pretty good.
But this time felt different.
There was something about looking at the scale and realizing that I would probably tip 300 pounds in the next couple of months that gave me pause. I felt sick, and it wasn’t just the hangover. I felt like I needed to make a change, or I was going to eat myself into a very early grave.
The next day, I woke up late, went to work, and absolutely no change was made.
Like I said, life was pretty good. I didn’t really have a good reason to make a change, other than not wanting to die. (Side note: that’s a pretty damn good reason!) Besides, I love food, and beer, and I had tried all sorts of weight loss programs in the past that never did any good. So, why waste time? But as time passed, this growing awareness of my own mortality, and the role my weight was playing in it, began to eat at me.
I started counting calories, but saw no change. I switched some of my beer for sparkling water at night, but saw no change. By the end of January, I was seriously researching bariatric surgery, thinking that going under the knife was the only way I was going to avoid going under the ground.
At the beginning of February, my wife and I, along with my brother and his wife, took a dream vacation to Hawaii to celebrate my 30th birthday. It was everything that we had hoped it would be. It was beautiful, and the culture on the island was incredible. All of the walking, swimming, and snorkeling was wearing me out, but I didn’t mind because I was having the time of my life.
The best part about Hawaii, though, was the food.
Everywhere you go, there are food trucks serving delicious seafood. There were little pop up stands selling every vegetable and fruit imaginable. We tried so many new and delicious foods on that trip, I can’t even remember them all. What I do remember, though, was when it hit me that most of this food was pretty healthy.
Healthy food. Healthy food that tastes good.
When we returned from our trip, I was changed. I felt alive, more alive than I had in quite some time. I was still riding the high from such an amazing vacation, but honestly, it was more than that. I had energy, my mind was clear, and I felt physically better than I had in years. I knew that the kind of eating that we had done in Hawaii was going to be my ticket to getting out of the fat-jail that I had locked myself in.
I did all the research, read all the blogs, and talked to everyone I knew who had ever lost weight. In the end, I landed on the Paleo diet because it made the most sense to me, was closest to the type of eating I had experienced on the island, and I knew some people who’d had success with it. I told my wife on Friday, February 23rd that I would be starting Paleo on Monday the 26th, and I did. No fanfare, and no warning, I just did it. I also decided to go one full year without beer. She was supportive, but she wasn’t super happy about the short notice; she had already bought ingredients for a corn chowder recipe that she now couldn’t make. Over the next week or so, she and I searched for Paleo recipes online and pinned them to a shared Pinterest board so that we could try them out, and we made exhaustive grocery lists of all the items we would need. If nothing else, my new eating strategy gave us a good excuse to try so many new things!
For the most part, Paleo was a pretty seamless transition. I like basically all vegetables, so I just started buying more of them. Most of my meals were veggies and a meat, which turned out to be pretty easy to do; Pork chops with brussel sprouts, grilled chicken with broccoli, steak and asparagus, etc. Leaving off the rice, potatoes, and bread was difficult, but after a few weeks I didn’t even miss those things anymore. Meanwhile, Hannah made some amazing meals that I just couldn’t believe were healthy. The first time I had sloppy joes served inside of a spaghetti squash, I knew I had made the right call.
I wasn’t counting calories or measuring portions, I was just eating differently. I wasn’t even exercising. For the first 30 days, I followed the Paleo diet like it was gospel. No grains, dairy, sugar, or legumes. No chemicals, no soy, no vegetable oil. I wouldn’t even eat green beans because they were technically a legume, and well, legumes are bad, mmk? The crazy part was, it worked. In the first week, I lost 12lbs, from 288 to 276. The second week was slightly less dramatic at 6lbs. By April 1st, I was 263lbs, having lost 25lbs in the first month.
After that first month, the rate of loss slowed dramatically, but I was still losing 2–3lbs per week. I started allowing small cheats here and there (like feta cheese on a greek salad at my favorite little place down the street), but they were very few and very far between. I referred to this strategy as “conscious cheating,” keeping track of each cheat item so as not to blow a whole day or even a whole meal. For example, when Hannah and I visited a taco place in Charleston, SC over the summer, I allowed myself 2 corn tortillas (for the tacos, still keeping the fillings Paleo) and 10 tortilla chips. I have never savored chips before, but when you’re only allowed 10,
you find yourself taking your time with them. I also allowed liquor back into my diet in small amounts (only 40+ proof, and no mixers).
In 8 months, I had lost more than 70 lbs. Today, I’m sitting comfortably in the 220–225 range (still not quite as low as I’d like, but hey, it’s a lot better than it was.) It’s not all about the weight loss, though; my skin has cleared up significantly, I don’t get winded climbing stairs the way I used to, the pain and inflammation I used to feel in my hands and joints has all but disappeared, and the acid reflux I’ve had every day for most of my adult life has completely disappeared, despite my 4-cup-per-day coffee habit. I feel better, I have more energy, and the idea of exercising no longer makes me cringe. I am a better me than I’ve been in years.
Over time, I have modified the Paleo diet to match my ever-evolving beliefs about food. While I’m not as careful to avoid peanuts or soy sauce as I used to be, I am still vigilant about the kinds of chemicals and garbage that I put into my body. I watch my macros (Fat, Protein, Carbs) much more closely than I did in the beginning, because they provide the foundation for reaching the fitness goals I have set for myself. I’m not perfect, and I’m not where I want to be, but the place I am today is a place I once thought was impossible. I’m not an expert. I’m just a fat guy who got healthy out of desperation, trying to inspire other fat guys to not lose hope. It is possible to lose the weight. It is possible to feel alive again. Changing the way I eat has given me my life back. Maybe it could do the same for you.
