Spotlight: Al

My name is Al, and I grew up fat.

The theme of my life is one of shame. I grew up in a family of 3 kids and a spilt home. Actually, my childhood was relatively normal, and I wouldn’t even say I was that overweight until I was probably 12 or 13. I did live my mom, who tried very hard to give us everything we needed, but she lacked in providing the emotional needs of a child. I remember very early on life feeling less than. I don’t understand it, but I felt I was the forgotten child.

Not as smart as my older sister and not the youngest, who got a lot of attention. I was the middle child. I assume that’s what paved the road for my eating to escape in my adolescent years.

I think things changed for my when we moved out of town when I was 10. I wasn’t super popular before, but I was uprooted and never really felt a part of the crowd in a new bigger school. I was kind of lonely, and though I had peripheral “friends” I lacked real connection.

I did get a paper route to do after schools. While paper routes can force a kid to be active, this actually gave me the chance to earn money and spend it on food. This money was my own and I could stop by the local convenience store and buy whatever I wanted. I’m not sure if this was so intriguing as we grew up somewhat poor and never had the pudding cups, cupcakes, cookies, or even juice boxes that other kids had in their lunches. Regardless, I would stop almost daily. I remember this being around 1989-1992(ish) and Crystal Pepsi (clear cola) was a thing. I would buy a big bottle of that and a whole box of mini oreos. And I ate this stuff alone. I did not go back and show my friends or share what I had purchased, rather I would eat this stuff alone behind the convenience store. Obviously looking back, I had elements of shame even before I gained all my initial weight.

The next couple years, I got bigger and bigger. I was increasingly aware of my body. I hated myself already by the age of 13. Though I never really was bullied, but there were pivotal moments in my life that still hurt as I recollect them. In Grade 9, we were changing in the change room after gym. A classmate looked at me and made a comment that I should be wearing a bra. This crushed me. I felt less than nothing and I never changed in the changeroom for the rest of my life (I still don’t).

Similarly, my own step father made a comment before about needed a bra. I was so angry and hurt, and didn’t know what to do with myself. Probably the worst thing was hearing my mother tell somewone (not knowing I could hear) that she was ashamed of me. My fears were proven… I was less than and the black sheep of the family.

Non of this inspired me to lose weight, rather set me on a spiral or shame and self loathing. I continued to eat. I even stole money out of my mothers huge change jar to buy more food. High School had a cafeteria (something we didn’t have in elementary school) and I was able to buy 4 small hot cookies fresh from the oven daily… for $1! The also served meals every day… with fries being the main side. I ate this almost everyday despite bringing a lunch from home (which I’m sure I ate too).

By 15 I was probably about 240 pounds. Things were rough at home for my mother, and my brother and I were constantly fighting (verbally, rarely physically). She said she had enough and wanted one of us to move to my Dad’s. My brother wanted to go. I remember clearly at that time wanting to stay. Not because I preferred my mother to my father, but likely more out of routine. This was another pivotal moment in my life as even though my brother wanted to go and I didn’t, despite this, I was told I would be the one to move in with my Dad. This was a very painful moment as it solidified (in my mind) my fears of being unwanted. In that moment, I knew I was unwanted… the least of the family… the forgotten child.

I moved in with my Dad. My Dad was an alcoholic in the height of his issues. I never saw him. I was 15, and forced to live on my own. I went to a new school where I did not make friends. I was fat, and remember literally eating my lunch in a bathroom stall to avoid being seen or not be accepted. I did befriend an Indian boy who made me laugh and we ended up going to Ken’s Fry Truck almost everyday for lunch. We had fries every day. I also got my first job at McDonalds. I ended up taking extra shifts and even skipping school to work. My Dad was never around, so I often ate at McDonalds during my break and after work as I headed back to home alone. I was not active, did not really play sports and had no friends. But there was also a 7-11 Convenience Store near my Dad’s apartment. I ate nachos and big bite hot dogs, slurpees, and pretty much anything you should not eat. In the 6 to 8 months that I lived there, I ballooned to well over 300 pounds.

I ended up moving home. I can feel the almost audible gasps of people seeing me, a 15 year old, return home probably 80 to 100 pounds heavier in less than a year. Not only was my mother ashamed of me, I was ashamed of me too.

I floated through high school. I wouldn’t say I was hated or made fun of, but I had no real friends there. I did my thing and kept o myself. I do remember I was very good at basketball and made the high school team. The first practice was shirts and skins. Though I was not selected to be skins, the thought that one day I may be asked to, crippled me. I was so scared I quit the team (though I loved basketball) as I never wanted to be in that position.

I continued to work at McDonalds from 14 right into my early 20’s. I was made manager at 16 and managers got free food. I had some friends at McDonalds so we would also go to a local truck stop and smoke and drink coffee (and eat) well into the night. My mom used to accuse me of drugs as I was often out late, but in reality, I was just at the truck stop smoking and drinking coffee.

At 23 I ended up on disability for an ankle injury. I lost my job at that time from McDonalds. I took a job a call center. I was sitting all day in an office setting and the job itself was sedentary. I gained weight again until I was about 400 pounds. For many years I did not know how much I weighed as most scales stopped at 300 or 330 pounds.

Fast forward to 2007. I was 28 years old, 400 pounds, and pretty miserable with myself. I did however find a girl who liked me and within our first few weeks, we had an unplanned pregnancy. I can’t say I was scared though. I always wanted a kid and never thought I would ever even have the chance being a 400 pound dude that felt no one would ever love me.

I loved this kid pretty much upon finding out we were pregnant. To this day, that moment changed my life. It changed my thinking. For the first time, I wasn’t living just for my miserable existence, I was living to be a dad and provide a life for someone. I remember in my quiet contemplation, not only wanting to be a great dad, but I had this fear that one day my kids friends would make fun of her for having a fat daddy. I knew I had to a make a change, and a drastic one.

On October 21st, 2007 I first stepped into the YMCA gym. I also made Facebook Notes saying I was going to do this. I believed I couldn’t do this on my own and wanted to make myself accountable to anyone that would read my notes.

The first week I lost 9 pounds. I was ecstatic. It was embarrassing as I had to use the industrial scale at the gym, but I did it. I’m glad I did. I might have lost that much before in a week, but not having a scale, I never knew.

After that week, I was hooked. A new man appeared. A goal driven man. I wrote notes on Facebook weekly (that still exist) that should my weekly updates. I started to gain a following of people on my Facebook that followed my progress and cheered me on.

My journey evolved over time. Started with walking on an incline for 40 mins each day and light weights, to training myself to run. I made a runner out of me which I never thought possible. After training myself to run with intervals, I got to the point where I ran 10k every single day. My diet evolved as well. It started with never eating out and making at home food substitutions (ground turkey instead of beef, etc). I got to the point where my diet was good (looking back probably way too few calories), and things were rolling.

In 7 months, I had lost 100 pounds! I was over the moon. My followers of my progress were now calling me an inspiration. They wanted my help and advice, and others continued to cheer me on down my path.

At one point in 2012-2013 I got down to 193 pounds. This was the first time ever being under 200 pounds. Looking back, I am rail thin lol. I am 6’4 so I look almost gaunt in some pictures.

I remember wanting to be under 200 pounds as BMI says I should be under 206 to be considered healthy. While I don’t put too much stock into BMI these days, I always wanted to be considered “normal”.

In the years since 2013, I started to weight train. I slowly did less and less cardio and more and more weights. It has become my new love. I started to put on muscle, but with that came fat as well.

Today I weigh about 270. Though I’d like to be a bit smaller, I can see some strength and size and though I very critical of myself, I can at times sit back and say “wow, look how far you’ve come”.

Now I have a ways to go and this journey is a constant evolution. I have heard it said that statistically it is more plausible to survive a gunshot than to lose 100 pounds and keep it off for 5 years. Well I have done that, and that is something to be proud of. I wont lie and say its easy. I feel I am in a constant fight with a body that wants to be fat. I still am trying to properly train my metabolism and id like to lean out a bit.

But for today as I retell my story, I am choosing to be proud of my progress. I am not someone to be a ashamed of. I have started my own gym even with 5 guys that I train and am able to share my knowledge and value with others. I know the hurt of an awkward teenage boy that never thought he would have anything. I also know what’s its like to be fit and strong, have a large family and a trophy wife that looked beyond my insecurities. I recognize I am my own worst enemy, but its time I look to the allies around me.

Sincerely,
Al R.
(Former Fat Guy)