Flashback

The following is an excerpt from my first post here. I was reading old posts, and was amazed at how much has changed for me Thought people might enjoy taking a look.

I am 30 years old. I stand 6-8. I have a wonderful wife, and two gorgeous daughters. I am working as a sportswriter - my life's dream. I live in a great apartment - complete with vaulted ceilings and a fireplace! Honestly, I have a pretty decent life.

Now.

The truth is, it wasn't that way as recently as three months ago. Actually, pretty much my last five or six years have been borderline hell. My motto for most of that time? "It could always be worse." Unfortunately, whenever I said that to myself, things actually got worse. I won't go into graphic detail, but I will give you the Cliffs Notes version.

Over the course of four years, I lost three jobs, lost my grandmother, lost one of my best friends from high school, and watched my mom slowly die. My family spent time on welfare. We had catastrophic auto issues - $2,500 worth of repairs at a time. We were nearly evicted - twice. I helped start a magazine, gave up tome with my family, as well as turned down jobs that would help me care for them, and I ended up being forced out of my own creation.

Those four years could have been devastating for me, but luckily I had something to comfort me.

Food.

I never really knew it before all of this, but I am an emotional eater. Something bad happens? A box of Little Debbie's should do the trick. Have a good day? I'm gonna celebrate! Break out a box of Little Debbie's! I'd stop at McDonald's, and instead of having A burger and some fries, I'd have FOUR burgers and fries. Maybe toss a milkshake on, just for good measure. I'd order Chinese - a family-size meal - and clean the entire thing out in one sitting.

And the more I ate, the less energy I had. In 2001, I was playing basketball three times each week, lifting weights three times each week, and going for a quick one-mile run at least once each week. It's gotten so bad, that even remembering those times gets me winded.

In all seriousness, I lose my breath from tying my shoes. Shoot, I lose my breath from breathing. We live on the third floor, and after climbing them to come home, I'm so out of breath that you'd think I just ran a quick 5K. I chase my daughter around for 10 minutes, and I need a break. It's bad.

I'm scared to death for me and for my family. I'm 30 years old, and I'm an easy 100 pounds overweight. I have severe sleep apnea. I wake up choking two or three times each night. I get migraines weekly. I'm always tired. The way I'm going right now, my kids will be fatherless in ten years. My wife will be looking for a replacement. I don't want that to happen.

I'm AMAZED as I read through that. Especially that part in bold. That was all true. I didn't even remember that I used to get winded from bending over to tie my shoes. I'm ashamed of myself for ever getting that bad.

Now I spar for 30-40 minutes at a time. Then, I tickled my daughter, and I was sweating.

Now I sprint 100 yards, and I need to catch my breath. Then, I came up my front steps, and needed to lay down.

Still a long way to go, but looking back is a good thing to do now and then.