It's Not About Me...

My name is at the top of this blog; the pictures on this blog are pictures of me before, and during, my Biggest Loser journey. But I want everyone who reads my blog to understand this, above all else: this is not about me. I'm posting all this stuff to share with others the grace of God that has put me at this juncture in my life; the power of God that has enabled me to participate, and the love of God that gives me the motivation to give it my all. I am a broken, fallen man; a recovering food addict, if you will. If you look at me and my journey, and you find inspiration, motivation, or some other impetus to keep going or to try harder, I'm happy about that, and it is very satisfying to me. But understand that the power and ability to conquer a set of lifelong habits is not something that I have "dug deep inside of me" and found. It's not the desire to be successful, or a winner, or good-looking (well, doing the best I can, anyway)... it's not the desire to breathe deeply, feel better, or be more active. It's because that while I am a child of God, and a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I found myself living the first verse of the song in the video at the top of this post:

Hear the cries of the shackled from the onset of time

For the chains of defeat, there's no key;

See the tears of the broken, hear the cries of the slaves,

"Is there no one worthy to set us free?"

If you have time, play the video; listen to the words; understand that without Jesus Christ in your life, nothing has any meaning or gives any satisfaction - not fame, not money, not looks; not power, position, or prestige. You may think you are living in total freedom, and in a sense, you probably are - you are free to roam anywhere inside that cell that you want to. No matter how successful your life is, though, at the end of the day, you're still in a cell.

Nothing I have done is worthy of praise or honor. Don't heap either on me, because I'm not here to promote myself. Another lyric from one of my favorite songs, and I'm done writing for today:

I boast not of works, nor tell of good deeds,

For naught have I done to merit His grace;

All glory and praise shall rest upon Him

Who so willingly died in my place.

19 Ounces...

I started this past week (my weeks run from Tuesday to Monday now, because of Monday night being judgment time on the scales every week) needing 9.8 pounds to reach the 100-pound mark in my weight loss journey. I knew that it would take me two weeks to knock out 9.8 pounds, and, while I did my best this week with every aspect of my program, I had expected to get 5, maybe 5.5 of it this week, leaving myself a 4.5 pound "putt" for next week.

 

I was wrong. I had 8.6 pounds this week, putting me at 98.8 pounds. That's 1.2 pounds away. 1.2 pounds. 1.2 pounds is roughly 19 ounces. Once I announced how close I was, everyone started chiming in with "you should've"'s... "you should've gone to the bathroom again"... "you should've taken your shoes off" (I always weigh in my shoes, because they had me weigh in my shoes at the TV studio on November 2nd)...  I think someone suggested that I chop off an arm...

 

So I've left myself a very short putt to get to 100 pounds lost - a tap-in, if you will. And for some reason, I'm nervous about it. I've not had a weigh-in that low yet; I'm not stuck on a plateau right now; there's no reason to think that I will be kicking myself instead of celebrating next Monday night. But you never know - nothing is a given when you are dealing with weight loss.

 

One of the privileges I have had during this competition is the opportunity to pick the brains of two people who not only have been down this Augusta's Biggest Loser road, but who were the very first to finish this journey as winners - Skip Braswell and Kristy Youngblood, the season one male and female winners. Skip wrote me today, and I include it here because I want his message to be a permanent part of my recollection of this week:

 

"Next weigh in will be a day you remember for the rest of your life...There is something special about hitting that 100 pound mark. Keep it up brother you are doing great...I am so proud of you."

 

And this, from Kristy, was one I received a couple of weeks ago:

 

"You are doing AMAZING THINGS...focus on HIM and not on things of this world and He will drive you through...remember 'I can do all things THROUGH CHRIST who strengthens me!!!!' Love ya BIG...Keep it up...almost there!"

 

If they can come, Skip and Kristy are on my invite-to-the-finale list, because encouragement and effort work hand-in-hand to produce excellence.

 

 

 

Almost at 100...

This is the chart I have kept in my office ever since week one of Augusta's Biggest Loser. Every square represents one pound that I need to lose; every week, I record my weekly loss in a different color. I don't color in a weight until I am down to, or past, that number. I am at 244.0, so I have filled in the "244" block. The "242" block represents 100 pounds gone, so I highlighted that one as an interim goal. In a few weeks, when I have colored in every block, I will have hit my much-publicized goal of 140 pounds lost. If I hit it before the end of the competition, I will keep going!

Aired Friday morning, 2/19/09

Look How Far We've Come...

It is now 84 days till our final weigh-in on Friday, May 14. I thought it might be fitting to post this again...

Why Now...?

Well, it finally happened... no, I have not lost the lead; I have not stopped losing weight (although 2 lbs. can seem like a plateau); I have not gotten sick or ended up in the hospital. I have, however, gotten hurt. When? I don't exactly know. I think it started on a Saturday morning nearly two weeks ago, trying to do a one-legged leg press with my left (weaker) leg. I felt a twinge in my back, and had Johnnie pull the platen back up (probably not what it's called, but just go with it. All you really need to know is a large, heavy object was driving my leg into my chest, and it didn't feel good). It didn't hurt bad once I got up, but then little things started irritating it, and a week later, my sciatic nerve was mightily inflamed, and I felt the pain from my hip down to my foot. I did not miss a workout, I didn't skip an exercise, and only needed a slight modification on some, partially due to a right shoulder that has been giving me problems for a couple of weeks.

I made the soonest appointment I could, which was Wednesday. Wednesday morning's workout was pretty tough on me - at one point I had to stop the treadmill and take a knee, it hurt so bad. I hated it, because this was immediately after Johnnie had said, "No more exercise modifications. Either you CAN do it, or you CAN'T." Timing is everything, huh? Two hours later I saw my general practitioner, who was pretty happy with my weight loss, but not so much with my injury. He loaded me up with Vicodin and a couple of anti-inflammatory drugs. N-SAIDs, for those of you with some medical background - Non-Steroid Anti-Inflammatory Drugs. Dr. Scott said the usual treatment was steroids; however, the most common side effect of steroids is weight gain, which he did not want to create. So I am on the strongest N-SAIDs, he said, that he could prescribe me. One of them I've taken before; one of them I had never heard of, but it's only one pill a day, so it must have some kick to it.

Today was somewhat better, after 18 hours of drugs. I was able to run this morning, even bumping my speed up to 9.6 mph in short bursts. I did a full hour on the treadmill and was still able to walk out of the gym under my own power. Later on in the morning, Johnnie had us all down at the TV station to film a 2-minute segment for Friday morning's newscast. (In case you ever feel like tuning in, in Augusta, we are on channel 26, the local NBC affiliate, usually between 6:20 and 6:30 AM Wednesdays and Fridays. You can also find most of the stuff after it airs at nbcaugusta.com/features/loser.) Liz Hill was at her desk in the newsroom, and she hadn't seen me since about 20 pounds ago. She said, "Wow - you look great!" It's always a treat when the people who don't have to talk to you take the time to do so.

After some errands to get my son ready for a youth ski trip, I headed up to PHC to meet with the nutritionist-of-the-day. I usually see Savannah, but my needs are small, so I'll talk to anyone there, pretty much. I asked Priscilla if my bloodwork had come back yet, and it had, with LOADS of good news on the lab report. My blood sugar, which wasn't too awful bad before, is down to 96, a 25% drop. My cholesterol is 119, down from 196, and my triglycerides have fallen from 121 to 51. I'm a little low on the blood factors that involve iron, so we may have to do something about that. I've had exactly 3 ounces of red meat in the last three and a half months, so that might have something to do with it. I was also down a pound and a half in the last two days, and this evening at home, I weighed tonight exactly what I weighed this morning, which means my scale at home should be down about a pound and a half in the morning. If it is, I will officially be OUT of the 250's, into the 240's. Each ten-pound marker seems to be harder and harder to break through. I'm hoping this food plan will be worth it, 'cause we're all on the same plan, and we're all HUNGRY!! My teammate Charles was going to make some comment about wanting to eat his young during the taping, but fortunately, all he had time for was name and weight.

I'm hoping the weight loss will pick back up soon - the last 3 months is going to FLY by, compared to the first 3 months!

 

Thoughts On Quitting...

While I understand that this blog is a source of encouragement for many of you that read it, you should know that I am writing it as a way to record my experiences along the way, the good and the bad. So far, it's mostly been good. The last day or so, not so much.

 

I'm thankful for the weight loss, and grateful for the opportunity, but quite honestly, I've never felt so close to quitting as I did last night. I took a very long walk outside on a pretty chilly night - normally I go to Walmart or the mall to get my walking in, but I felt the need to go outside, and to be somewhere where I could be alone with my thoughts (and with the Lord). So I went over to the track near the Y on Wheeler Road, and when I started walking, it was just me.

 

Funny... 72 hours earlier, I was standing in front of a camera, telling everyone how wonderful and "great" everything was (borrowed "great" from a friend of mine). In some respects, this is a great and wonderful experience. I will never have an opportunity like this again, and nearly everyone I know will never have the opportunity to do something like this. As I'm writing this, I am watching pictures of "the old me" roll by on a digital photo frame, and I'm so glad to see that guy is disappearing one pound at a time. I enjoy the compliments from friends, near and far, as they size up my progress in their mind's eye. I even enjoyed it when the oldest member in our church walked up to me Sunday, put her arm around me, and said, "You've still got some rolls there you need to get rid of..."

 

I am trying to give this experience my absolute best effort - as we were reminded this morning, we get out of it what we put into it. But while it's been "great" and "wonderful" and life-changing, it's not been easy. Every morning I wake up and my right knee hurts so bad I can hardly bend my leg. The back and leg pains that had largely subsided since beginning this process have returned again, like a car problem that you thought had been fixed, and suddenly it's doing "it" again. I constantly fight digestive tract issues as a result of a high protein diet; three weeks ago, it put me in the emergency room, something that apparently was unprecedented in this process. Cramps, muscle soreness, aching joints, blisters, sleepless (or sleep-deprived) nights, and general overall pain are par for the course.

 

To give this competition my best effort, a lot of things have gone on "hold" in my life. I am so grateful to have a "boss" (my pastor and one of my closest friends and confidants) that allows me enormous flexibility in my schedule. I don't know about the blue team, but the rest of the red team have pretty inflexible schedules. But even with wide latitude, there is the time pressure of having to be somewhere every day; at the beginning, it seemed like it was constant. Monday morning workout, Monday night weigh-in (and this past Monday, a photo / video shoot that didn't end until nearly 11:00 PM), Tuesday workout and weigh-ins or group meetings, Wednesday morning workout, Thursday workout and weigh-in, Friday workout, Saturday workout (often double workout on Saturday)... plus chiropractic appointments three days a week. Sunday, our one rest day, is the busiest day of my week. My Sundays begin at 6:00 AM, and often don't wind down until well after 8:00 or 9:00 PM.

 

I'm tired of having to watch every bite that goes into my mouth, wondering if I am getting too much sodium or fat or something else that I don't need. Losing weight is hard enough; trying to lose x-amount of pounds in y-amount of time is grueling. And I think I speak for all twelve of us when I say I'm a little tired of chicken and eggs. I've never really been legitimately tempted, but man, I miss a cheeseburger or a slice of pizza every now and then.

 

With six of us working so closely together, and seeing each other at our worst, we have become a family of sorts; sometimes we are a dysfunctional family - we fuss, make each other mad, and hurt each others' feelings. We have purposefully made it a goal not to have any drama amongst us, but there is some from time to time, and I am neither completely innocent in its origin, nor immune from its effects.

 

As I began writing this blog entry, I was sitting at my desk, where I have a digital photo frame. Looking at the pictures that scrolled by, I was reminded why I am doing this. There are pictures my family - the most important people in my life. There are pictures of drawings I did of our proposed church renovation, and it reminded me of the many people who give me support every week. There is a picture of the red team, several of whom have singled me out as "the leader" of our team (a mantle I wear uneasily, because we are peers, and all in this together). Finally, there is the before and after 80 pounds picture of myself - at 342 pounds, and at 262 pounds. That picture reminds me that I must do this for me, because my family, my church family, and my teammates need me to be the best "me" I can be.

 

I can't quit... I won't quit... and as hard as it is, I am resolved to meet my goal of losing 140 pounds by May 15. I can't control whether or not someone else wins this competition, but I can control whether or not I do my absolute best, and give it 100 percent every day.

 

 

Halfway Home...

Ninety-five days gone... ninety-five days left. We are halfway through with the Biggest Loser competition, and, as always, I have a few thoughts about the past 13.5 weeks:

 

1. If someone had told me that I could be down nearly 100 pounds in 13 weeks, I would have said they were nuts. It can't be done... it's not safe... I'm not that disciplined... I don't like vegetables... (actually that one is true, still!)... I've never been athletic...  on and on. But it's happened - I'm down 89 pounds in 95 days. The weight loss has slowed down, but it is still coming off.

 

2. My perception of what I thought I could do and what I've actually done are two completely different things. Growing up as the fat kid, the last one chosen when picking teams, I never thought that I would be the fastest, strongest person on my team (or one of them, anyway). I have legs that should have had corrective surgery when I was a kid; a back that has blown two discs and required two surgeries; and complications from those surgeries including cramps and numbness in my left leg. But somehow  I have been able to overcome these things and do more than I ever thought I could. As I said in my interview last night, I was afraid to walk into the gym that first morning, because I had never been in one, and was afraid of failure. But as someone said, if you don't experience failure, you're not trying hard enough.

 

3. I had not planned on getting so close to my teammates - my plan coming in was to remain detached, maybe a little lost in the pack. But it has not turned out that way at all. They are the first people I talk to when I've had a bad day, when something funny has happened, or when I have health concerns. In our interviews last night, everyone noted that our team has become their second family, and they meant it. We see each other at pretty much our worst, which most mornings is crawl out of bed, grab a T-shirt, and head to the gym.

 

4. Week one, I wrote our trainer an email, saying that while I knew I had no chance at winning this competition, I was grateful for the opportunity. That may still be true, but in week three I grabbed the lead (percentage of body weight lost), and have held onto it for eleven weeks now.

 

The pounds are harder to lose; the workouts are getting tougher; the journey does not get easier. But it is one worth taking, because the rewards greatly outweigh the sacrifice!

 

Thank you, NBC, Omni, PHC, Johnnie, Barry, Tim, Colin, Tanner, Ashlee, Laycee, Lori, Nandy, Lisa, Tammy, Bronnie, and Charles for this experience - truly the chance of a lifetime!

Tuesday Evening...

Well, I wasn't thrilled about Monday night's weigh-in (2.4 pounds), but there have been other things today to be pleased with. This morning I ran my mile in my fastest time yet - nine minutes, seventeen seconds. I got measured at PHC today, and I have lost 13 inches in my waist since I began the competition. I'm still in the lead for another week. So I guess things could be worse, huh? I'm already working very hard on next week's loss - hoping for a really BIG one!!