I am one of those people whose weight fluctuated dramatically over the years. I have documented most of this in previous posts, but I will provide the short version here. I first gained substantial weight while my ex-wife was pregnant with our first son. Our second son a few years later pushed my weight up and my belly out.
Shortly after he was born, I lost a chunk of weight but was still heavier than I would have liked. In 2009, I quit smoking and my weight shot up dramatically. I reached the heaviest of my life that winter, tipping the scales at nearly 280 pounds. Then the first overall lifestyle change ocurred. I found cycling and running and healthy eating and dropped over 100 pounds, leveling off at 168. I didn’t stay there long. A slow march over the next few years got me back up to 220.
In early 2015, my ex-wife and I (still married at the time) exerienced an extended split. During that period, I found Intermintent Fasting, or IF. I also set a goal of running a marathon, which I completed in January of 2016 at Walt Disney World. Between IF and the constant running, I got myself back down to 190 lbs.
This is me right after completing my first marathon
Shortly before the marathon, I reconciled with my ex and returned to much of my former lifestyle. Again, the weight began to creep up. In 2018, the same person who turned me on to IF introduced me to the Ketogenic diet. I was aware of Keto prior and I even knew a couple of people who made it their primary lifestyl choice, but I didn’t really understand it. But it worked. I started 2018 married and 225. By fall of that year, I was 174 and divorcing (it would stick this time).
Over the last few years I have wandered in and out of Keto, Vegan, Vegetarian, Pescaterian, IF, and “eat whatever the hell I want.” I go on benders with candy and bread and wine and beer. The latter two are, what I believe, the primary culprit of why I have gained so much weight back. I also believe, as there are more and more studies to show this, that being keto for so long messed up my metaboilism. I will not get into the science of it here, but essentially your body forgots how to properly process sugars, akin to diabetes.
So between the wine and beer and bread and candy, I am once again creeping on 230 pounds. It is a new year. It is time for change. New Year’s Resolutions are a joke and we all fall into the trap because they are so often impossible to maintain. Yet here I am, about to attempt one.
In three days, I leave for Florida to compete in The Dopey Challenge. I going to run 48.6 miles over four days way too heavy. I have no idea what is going to happen, but I do nto want to do it at 228 pounds like I am this morning.
I am going to begin by fasting. I normally follow The Warrior Diet, which is a twenty hour fast with a four hour eat window. That is not going to cut it this week. I going to attempt a 30 hour (at the time of writing this, I am already 11 hours in) fast followed by a 36 hour fast. This should knock several pounds off. When you are running that much, a few pounds can make a huge difference.
I will keep you up date on the progess as the week develops. Wish me luck.
Note: Over the next week, I will be introducing readers (however few there are) to the new format of The Daily Octane. Each day will be the topic reveal for that calendar day going forward. Additionally, I will provide context for why I feel I have ANY business even writing about the subject.
I was never really thin as a child. I wasn’t exactly fat either. Rather, I existed somewhere in the middle of the road. Taking a gander back at yearbook pics and such has led me to understand that I was fairly nondescript. In High School, that can actually be a good thing. Best to not stand out either way. I played some sports in school. In the 7th and 8th grade, I tried to play basketball. That was at the peak of Michael Jordan’s career and everyone wanted to “Be Like Mike.” I was no exception. I was also not tall, athletic, or talented. In the 9th and 10th grades, I wrestled. I was actually decent at the sport, even pinning a kid from a rival school in just nine seconds in a match. That’s a true story and also the highlight of my wrestling career. I likely could have done more, but I spent the majority of the time academically ineligible. Why? Well, I had a love/hate relationship with homework. I golfed in high school as well. My Grandfather was an avid golfer. He was good, too. I spent a number of years idolizing that man and golf was a way of getting his attention. It didn’t work. He never once even asked me to golf with him…
Scholastic sports aside, something profound happened to me in the Spring of 1991. I was in the second half of my Sophomore year of High School and had a love affair with movies. As most kids my age at the time, I was a huge fan of The Two Coreys. Corey Haim and Corey Feldman were in nearly all the influential movies of my youth. While their stories are tragic when viewed through the lens of hindsight, at the time they were my heroes. Enter Prayer of the Rollerboys!
Something about this movie struck a chord with me. I am not sure if it was the post 80s dystopian aesthetic, or the young Patricia Arquette’s natural sexiness (I was definitely deep into puberty) or the rebellious actions of the protagonists, but something excited me to no end. As is human nature, I wanted to emulate something I loved. I wanted to get Rollerblades.
Over the next couple of years, I formed a passionate love affair with the sport of in-line skating. I skated for fitness, I skated for sport, and I skated for fun. I watched the X-Games on ESPN and tried to mimic their moves (often with tragic consequences). To be wholly truthful, I got really good at it.
Shortly after High School, I joined the United States Marine Corps, where I began to travel the World. And everywhere I went, I brought my skates. I skated in North Caroline, Florida, Okinawa, Thailand, and California. I skated everywhere I could right up until the popularity of inline skating dwindled. I started to notice that when I was skating around, I was the only person skating around. That led to awkwardness, which ultimately led to a painful decision to stop altogether.
When my second wife (these are stories for another time) got pregnant for our oldest son in 2002, I started gaining some weight with her. When she lost the pregnancy weight after he was born, I didn’t. When she got pregnant with our second son in 2005, I gained even more weight with her. When she again lost the weight after he was born, coincidentally I did not. In 2009, in response to her constant harassment, I chose to quit smoking. On June 15th of 2009, I smoked my last cigarette, totally cold turkey. What I didn’t quit was the oral fetish associated with smoking and over the next several months my weight ballooned to an all time high of 279 lbs. That was my weight on my birthday in 2009 at the age of 34. Worse yet, when I lumbered into the bathroom to shower on the morning of my birthday, I saw in the mirror something that shocked me to the core: I had stretch marks on my stomach.
It is not easy sharing this picture. This is not even my heaviest. This is three weeks into the process when I finally found the courage to step in front of a camera.
The first thing that happened next was nothing…
Depression set in. Despair set in. The reality for most people that become obese is that really don’t see it happening. It actually comes as a surprise one day. They tend to trick their own mind into ignoring the signs as they are gaining the weight. I was no different. Lucky for me, New Year’s Day was right around the corner. And that is the time for resolutions.
I bought myself a recumbent stationary bike and began to exercise. I also took some advise from some gym-rat friends of mine and began to eat lean protein, rice, and vegetables. I began to track all of my calories in software on my computer (smartphones were still a few years off).
Before you applaud the next part of this story, it is important to note that I did this COMPLETELY the wrong way. I followed the flawed method of Calories in / Calories Out. I starved myself by taking in less than 1200 calories a day and I spent a ridiculous amount of time on the stationary bike. At the peak of my exercise routine, I was riding three hours a day. Right or wrong, it worked.
By the end of 2010, I was down to 180 lbs. I had also decided that summer to get a real bike. I had been watching the Tour de France for years and I wanted to be Lance Armstrong (he had not been disgraced yet), so I went on craigslist and found what I thought was the perfect bike. It was a 2000 Trek XO-1. It was an amazing bike, but not at all what I really wanted, in hindsight. I really knew nothing of cycling at the time. As it turned out, that was a cyclocross bike, which it designed very specifically for a certain sub-genre of cycling competitions. Regardless of my mistake, I rode the ever-loving shit out of that bike. FYI, it is still in my garage to this day. Another thing I did, as Spring began in 2010, was that I decided to shift my exercise routines to running. It was agonizing at first. Running is a vastly different cardiovascular activity to cycling. It is laborious and painful to the initiate and I suffered all the growing pains. However, after enduring it for months, I decided in the summer of 2010 to run my first 5k.
Warming up with the assistance of my oldest. This was my first 5k in August of 2010.
The Inner Harbor 5k in Syracuse, NY is still run every year, but that was my first official 5k. I was terrified. I was confused by how it all work. Luckily, I had my family with me to cheer me on. My oldest even ran alongside me while I jogged my warm-up. About a quarter mile into the run, my right foot found a pothole that my eyes never saw. CRACK. The pain was horrific. I limped for a couple of strides. A million thoughts streaked though my brain. Did I have to quit? Was I able to run? What did I do to my ankle? Did it matter?
The answer to the last question was an emphatic NO! Adrenaline was luckily still pumping through my body from the starting gun of the race. The sudden realization of a possible substantial injury only encouraged my adrenal glands further. I felt almost no pain as I ran the remainder of the race. I also ran it fast, finishing in under 24 min. Well, fast for me anyway. I also realized immediately after I finished, that I had done substantial damage to my ankle. As it turned out, it was a severe sprain but luckily not broken. Regardless, it hurt all the same.
That race ignited a love affair with running that carries on to this day. I have also continued to be an avid cyclist. A few years back, I added kayaking to my list of adventurous activities. There are a few more, and I will certainly address them over the coming blog posts. My accomplishments make me proud. I have run a lot of races, including full 26.2 mile marathons. I have biked in races and charity events, riding in several century rides. This spring, I am going to add a kayak race to the fold. In future posts, I will also be recounting some of my more memorable events. I will talk about my diets, both successful and otherwise. I will talk about my one attempt at a sprint triathlon and why it never even started. I will talk about my professional career and how it has served my fitness journey and how I am now able to guide others in their’s.
I hope you enjoyed this read and come back for more…
Christopher Hess, LMT
Be sure to return tomorrow to see what Saturdays’ topic will be.
