It’s Time

Boyhowdy, that’s a lot of groceries! Y’all know I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. From being “husky” as a kid to being “morbidly obese” as a young man, my girth has been with me since I popped out at 8 lbs., 6.5 oz. on that sunny August morning some 60+ years ago. Constantly reminded by too-tight clothes, shrinking school desks each year, band uniforms that split their seams, and of course those special people who felt the need to remind me, either as a “polite comment” or outright nasty bullying.

I’ve done it all. Every diet and fad in the book. Starvation. As much exercise as I could muster my girth to master. Prescription speed in high school that made me lose the weight, but not remember much of my junior year. Gastric bypass surgery that took me from nearly 550 pounds down to 325—for a while. I had settled at 380 in 2017, holding my own for a couple years, as my hip blew out, followed by a strained knee then a blown baker’s cyst on the other knee that anchored me to my chair more than I ever imagined—right in the middle of a senate campaign to beat it all.

Then came the pandemic, I caught covid and a-fib at the same time, broke a couple fingers, and thought I was headed for the drain last Memorial Day—to the point I got my affairs in order and left the plans to take care of my Angel and my pups if things didn’t turn around. The covid disappeared, a-fib literally zapped, fingers healed over last summer, but I was still burdened with extra weight I’d piled on, tipping back near 430 lbs. in March.

I’ve constantly prayed for Divine intervention to help me fight the battle, ever since I can remember.

Today, I stepped on the scale and I’m just about where I was some six years ago. My suits are fitting again, even though my gait is still crippled by the hip and knees. But it’s just a start. And will always be a struggle.

My goal is to drop the next 80 pounds over the next year so I can have my hip fixed, knees back in shape, and finally take care of myself so I can continue taking care of those I love. It’s a long journey, but this time, I’m in it to win it. I don’t have a choice. At 60 years and just weeks away from the next benchmark, I’ll have outlived both my dad and my maternal grandfather—lifelong goals for me. It’s a renewal, a chance to finally get fit enough to again be mobile on my own, without my companion cane.

It’s time. I’ll always be a big guy. But I want to be a mobile one, better able to do as God has planned for me to do.

I’ll keep you up to date, and y’all toss up a little prayer my way as you can.