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Identity crisis - story of a fat guy who successfully lost weight

Men's Fitness, Nov, 1998 by Craig Moss

A self-described jolly fat guy builds a leaner, meaner, marathon-running persona for himself

Craig Moss Santa Clarita, CA

Age: 25 Height: 5[feet] 10[inches]

Weight Before: 270 lbs. Present: 170 lbs.

Waist Before: 44[inches] After: 31[inches]

TRAINING

Runs 40 to 55 miles a week. Works out in the gym five days a week for 90 minutes.

As far back as I can remember, I had an all-you-can-eat approach to the dinner table and actually took pride in my prodigious appetite. Eating balanced meals in reasonable quantities was not a concept I was familiar with. In fact, polishing off a huge plate of ribs was a treasured pastime. I equated a clean plate with a clear conscience: I could leave the table knowing I'd done my best.

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My attitude about obesity wasn't one of resignation or surrender - I just thought being fat was my fate. Coming from an overweight family, I accepted my large size and even made it a defining part of my persona. In high school, I was the jolly fat guy who held court in fast-food restaurants and ate as much as possible to impress and amaze my friends.

It was around that time that my weight soared, and while played football and threw the shot-put and discus, I really didn't get the kind of exercise I needed to stay in shape. By my senior year, the effort it took to accomplish simple tasks, like climbing a small flight of stairs, had become disturbing. Hell, even the thought of tying my shoes was intimidating. And, as always, there was the conspicuous absence of a girlfriend. At 18, I felt my life was falling apart.

With my weight pushing 270, I decided to see Victoria Hansen, a nutritionist with whom my mother and brother had found some success. Victoria gutted my eat-till-ya-drop philosophy and put me on a low-fat, low-calorie diet. Gone were the donuts and chocolate milk, the red burrito six-packs, the large fries, the pizzas, and the five or six Big Gulps I liked to suck down each day. In the first week of my new diet regimen, I lost 10 pounds. I was amazed. My weight loss slowed after that but continued steadily, and by the six-month mark I'd lost 35 pounds - and I finally had a girlfriend. Life was good.

But along with my newfound confidence came the naive notion that I could continue my diet without Victoria's help. I started working fulltime, and just as I'd given in to the allure of fast food in high school, the 9-to-5 work week made it convenient to stop in at Mickey D's for a little R&R. Without Victoria's strong support, I gained the weight back before I knew what had hit me. It was crushing, but I'd been given a taste of what life could be like with some discipline. I resolved to change my life for good.

Resuming my meetings with Victoria was the first step. She steered me away from junk food again. Instead of sitting down to a pizza at lunch, I started bringing chicken and tuna-salad sandwiches to work and eating salads every night for dinner. Fruit and veggies replaced candy and Coke. I ate so many apples, it seemed like I had one in my hand 24 hours a day. The 35 pounds melted away again in about three months, but this time I wasn't content to stop at 235, and I felt dieting alone wasn't enough. Without a gym membership or any weights of my own, I decided on the cheapest available option: running.

I was uncomfortable running in public, so I did it late at night. Two miles was my target distance, and I had to walk a lot the first time out. Afterward, my legs felt like they'd been beaten with a baseball bat. Nevertheless, three nights later, still stiff and sore, I was out pounding the pavement again.

After the first month, I could run two miles without stopping. By the second month, I was down to 210 pounds and doing two miles three time a week. Just seven months after that, I was white-lining asphalt at the rate of five miles a day, three days a week. With the weight-training program I'd added to back up the running, I was losing four to seven pounds a month. I weighed 190 pounds and felt invincible.

But I was ready for a new challenge.

My diet was geared toward giving me energy to run: oatmeal, peanut butter, chicken, rice, fish and pasta, not to mention the ever-present fruits and veggies. I had enough energy to sustain my workouts and then some. So one hot summer day I decided to run home from my gym. It was 10 miles from my house, and I ran every step of the way.

The logic may be questionable, but I figured that if I could do 10 miles, why not 26? I began training-for the Los Angeles Marathon, which was five months away. I kicked my training level up a few notches and adjusted my diet to accommodate long runs. On race day, I was physically and mentally ready for the marathon. It was a brutal and punishing 26 miles, but despite the agony, I finished without stopping, and three days later, when the stiffness was just beginning to fade, I felt euphoric: Fourteen months after deciding to change my life, I'd run a marathon; I weighed 180 pounds; I worked out almost every day. No one could take that away from me.

Identity crisis - story of a fat guy who successfully lost weight

Men's Fitness, Nov, 1998 by Craig Moss

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