The incredible Shrinking Man

My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I'll be 42 in 3 months.  It's always in the back of my mind.  Blood pressure issues run rampant in my family.  I carry my mothers anxiety and stress with me.  I inherited it - there's no book or doctor that can do anything about that.  It's who I am and will always be.  Always wanting to please others before myself.  Worried what other people think.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

On August 5th, I went to the doctor because I had something weird on my back.  I thought it was a pimple at first, but it wouldn't go away.  It bled everywhere.  Ruined shirts.  It grew.  I know.  Nasty, right?  Finally, I figured out it wasn't going to go away on it's own and I had to have it removed.  I joked with the doctors that it was my evil twin's finger trying to get out. If it wasn't the evil twin, maybe I was the evil one.  Everybody laughed.  Honestly, I was scared to death at what they were going to find once they cut it off.  Turns out, everything was fine.  There was a long name for "growth that means nothing" and that was it.  But, my blood pressure was high.  A little too high to use the term "pre" anything.  This was beyond "pre" and if I didn't do something, it could be "post" real fast.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I made an appointment to have a physical for three weeks later.  I walked out of the office and I think something clicked.  I was 320 pounds.  My diet sucks ass.  Gas station lunches.  Butter covered dinners.  Never have time for breakfast.  I don't care for fruits or oatmeal or yogurt or fish.   I don't mind them, buy why have that when there is steak and gravy and convenient stuff in cans and packages that I can get from freezer to gut in 3.2 seconds?  Seriously, who's got that kind of time?  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I've got plenty of reasons for going on a diet.  Being around for my kids is the one everybody thought would get me to lose weight.  Turns out, no.  Instead, I finish all the crap that they won't eat.  I don't like to waste food.  I'd have a small meal, then eat half a pot of pasta over the stove before doing the dishes.  I gained 20 pounds at the oven.  And, at 320, nobody knew it.  I've always been a big guy, but nobody really knew HOW big.  I mean, I "wear it well".  At least I used to until recently.  A little at the neck, a little in the butt, a little around the chest, in the arms, legs, back of the head.  My gut had been screaming at me lately.  But, my excuse was something like - "I don't drink, smoke, party - the one thing I like to do is eat."  And eat I did.  What I wanted whenever I wanted.  Three times more than I should.  Who's going to stop me?  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I went home and looked around and told myself to at least get a plan.  There are so many plans that nobody knows what to do.  Low fat, low carb, low sodium, drink this, not that, biggest loser, don't lose too fast, P90X will change your LIFE!  It's all too much.  I knew what I didn't want to do - Fad diets.  No cabbage soup diet.  No adkins.  No stand on one leg and eat tofu M&M's.  I wanted to do something that I could start RIGHT THEN and keep doing forever.  Meaning always.  Meaning till I'm 142.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I turned first to what was familiar to me.  The Food Network and Alton Brown.  He had just recently had the premiere of his new season and had just lost 50 pounds.  I wanted to do what he did.  He has a four list system.  Foods he eats every day, foods he eats 3 times a week, foods he allows himself to have once a week, and foods he never eats again.  There was nothing crazy.  A fruit smoothie at breakfast.  Always breakfast, no exceptions.  Gotta eat breakfast.  Sardines and avocado for lunch......wait.  Sardines.    More on that later.  Other than the sardines, nothing I can't eat today.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I went to the grocery store and bought fruit.  I made the smoothie I saw on the TV show.  I don't eat fruit.  Turns out, I can drink it quite well.  I drink a giant purple monstrosity every morning that taste kind of like ice cream.  There are things in it that the old Steven would laugh at the new Steven for putting past his lips.  But it ain't bad.  I bought oats.  No sugared cereals.  No breakfast sandwiches in a bag.  Oats.  Turns out, it ain't so bad.  A little honey and cinnamon and BANG - instant goodness.  I bought sardines and pink salmon in a can.  More on that later.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I learned what soy milk and almond milk were.  I learned what quinoa and couscous were.  I read labels and figured out what I needed to eat every day.  I had bought a kitchen scale a couple of years ago.  My father-in-law had taken it to his house and forgotten about it.  I wiped the dust off.  In my over-preparedness, I tried to get together a spreadsheet of calories and grams and percentages of what I should eat.  I was and I am still measuring out food like a freaking chemist.  I know down to the half gram what goes in my pie hole.  Luckily, I found a free website called CalorieCount.com that does a much better job of calculating it all for me.  Threw the spreadsheet away and dove in head first to the lifestyle change that I made fun of whenever somebody else did it.  But, my mother had a stroke at age 42.

Switched from peanut butter to almond butter.  Switched from red meat to chicken and sometimes sardines.  Switched from no milk to milk, then to soy milk, and now almond milk.  Switched from white bread to wheat bread.  Switched from canned vegetables to frozen vegetables.  Switched from ice cream to light yogurt.  Switched from snack crackers to nuts.  Switched from sodas and (my real weight gain downfall) Gatorade to water.  I drink so much friggen water.  And breakfast.  Always breakfast, no exceptions.  Gotta eat breakfast.  I have a fruit smoothie each morning that makes your fruit smoothie roll over and ask for another swat.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I had the diet in place.  I stayed away from the scale.  I knew I was dropping weight but I didn't want to be shocked or let down.  I just wanted it to last.  I have a bad habit of collecting hobbies.  I'll spend tens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars on what I think is going to be my passion forever and then something shiny catches my eye and I ditch it for the next big thing.  I desperately DONT want this to be THAT.  I'm aware.  I have safeguards.  I have people that will nag me.  I hate to be nagged.  I was missing one thing.  A workout.  I needed to do something to make this thing happen.  The weight was one thing.  The blood pressure was another.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

I got a hold of the P90X workout system.  I had heard all about it on the radio.  Reviews all came back positive.  But, it was EXTREME.  I'm motivated enough.  So, I popped in the first video.  I almost threw up watching the first 5 minutes.  They started with 15 pull ups like it was a stretch.  Pull up?  I can't do a pull up!  I weigh 320 pounds!  I haven't been able to do a pull up since.......EVER!  It got worse from there.  No way.  I'd quit before I start.  What to do?  Turns out, there is a prequel to the P90X system called Power 90.  I got a hold of that and still felt a little sick.  That looks hard!  But, I dove in.  It is hard.  The first night was "Sculpting 1-2".  I did o.k.  I couldn't finish some of it.  But the dude that talks to you the whole time tells you  "That's o.k." (I'm sure he'll scream at me about how I'm pond scum later in the workouts....but he's nice on day one).  The next day, I thought I was going to die.  Day 2 was "Sweat 1-2" with "Abs 100" after it.  I didn't have to think I was going to die after day to.  I knew I was.   But, I kept going.  Day three was a little easier.  Day four was just as hard.  Day five was a bit easier.  Day six was easier than I thought it'd be.  Here I am sitting on Day 7 and I feel like 90 days of this will be awesome.  I can feel it in my arms and legs.  I can see it in my chest and gut.  I can breath it when I walk the dog.  I have to make it 90 days.  After that, I'll go back and look at that P90X again.  I'll probably still throw up.  But, my mother had a stroke at age 42.

Thursday, I had to go back for my followup appointment.  Nervous, but excited, I was an hour early.  I had printouts of my CalorieCount.com food logs to show my doctor.  I wore clean underwear.  I was ready.  I told myself that if my blood pressure was down, I was going to treat myself to a SMALL Dairy Queen Nutter Butter Blizzard.  I'd denied myself anything close to it for 3 weeks.  Turns out - no blizzard.  My blood pressure was better but still not "borderline."  The never say low or high with bloodpressure.  Like it's going to hurt my feelings.  It's always "pre-hypertension" or "above borderline hypertension."  It's high blood pressure!  I get it.  But, my blood levels were pretty outstanding.  My doctor was pretty amazed at the weight loss.  308 pounds.  Lost 12 pounds in 20 days.  He put me on some medication but told me to check back with him in 90 days to see if I needed the refill.  I won't. Instead of discouraging me, I worked out harder on Thursday and Friday.  I ate better than I ever have.  By Saturday, I was eating more but better and I was down to 305.8 this morning.  I'll get that small Blizzard when I hit 300 and then I'll never see another Blizzard again.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

Wait.  That's not true.  I'm not on a diet.  If I want a Blizzard, I'll have a freaking Blizzard.  If I want a chicken fried steak, I'll have one.  I'm not crazy.  I'm trying to eat clean.  I'm sure the term "eat clean" is patented and someone is making a lot of money off of it, but I feel like I made it up.  I know how many calories I need.  I know how many calories I have.  I know how many calories I burn.  Every day I'm learning more and more how to control how it all goes in and down.  I'm hoping that eventually, I won't even want that Blizzard.  I'm not on a diet.  I just eat clean.  It's o.k. to get a little dirty now and then.  As long as you take a bath and work that Blizzard off.  My mother had a stroke at age 42.

My goal is 250 pounds.  My doctor mirrored that request.  At this rate, I'll be there by Thanksgiving.  But, I'm not a fool.  I know I'm about to slow down.  I actually feel like I've lost a lot of this too quickly.  But, I can actually SEE the difference.  I have the before pictures.  I won't show them to anyone until the after pictures are ready.  They're gross, but they're still kind of me.  Soon it won't be.  My reward to myself won't be anything to eat.  When I hit 250, I'm going to call over to Salado and book a flight.  Then I'm going to jump out of that flight.  Skydiving.  Maximum weight - 250.  I thought that ship had sailed long ago.  I'm excited to have a chance to try and do it again.  My mother had a stroke at 42.

By the way - my mother is an amazing woman.  She's probably healthier now that she ever has been.  She's probably healthier than most of the people I know.  She's proud of me.  I just don't want to be sitting in a wheelchair next to her talking about how we should have done something sooner.  That's my motivation.  It's different this time because I'm not doing it for her.  I'm not doing it for Lori.  I'm not doing it because of my kids.  I'm doing it for me.  That's it - just for me.  The fact that everybody else is involved is just a huge bonus. 

I'll be different at 42.  Promise.