So I'm a big fat fatty fat fateroo fatball fatty... with a side of fries.

Here's what's going on...

 I'm pretty nerdy, the left side of my face is pretty badly scarred and smashed up, my teeth are broken and I haven't had the greatest image of myself since I was a kid. The truth is that not only did I not eat very well I barely ate at all. What meals I did manage to get were scarfed quickly... being in a boarding school, we only had about a half hour to pick up our dinner on a tray, eat our dinner, and then clean up the tray afterward before marching back to the cottage. 

So my eating habits were a little chaotic, and my financial status was listed as "Occasional time spent beneath a bridge"... That changed when I moved to California. I wasn't always broke, and I could pretty much eat as much as I want whenever I want. I like fast food... I'm lazy and I don't really enjoy shopping for myself, cooking, or any of that. I've been gaining weight for awhile now, and I even wound up in the hospital with diverticulitis. My guts popped open, raw sewage seeped into my meat, and I was pretty much dying for about a week before I went to the hospital and they cut me open... two weeks + a couple of days extra for good measure.

I was released with a colostomy and some sage advice that I wound up forgetting and ignoring in short order. My son was born. I was a father. I was crying at the drop of a hat, my life was spiraling out of control, and I had to wear a brave face in front of all the chaos because I needed to put food on the table gaddammit! And that also meant food in my stomach. Comfort food, because I was depressed... I even picked up a prescription for anti-depressants since it got so bad. I wish I didn't need them, but the truth is that I'm a wreck without them. And my family means more to me than the wounded pride I felt in actually requiring a little help to get through the day... and yeah, they were hurt by my attitude, that's for damn sure.

 They reversed the colostomy a few months later, and then a few months after that they had to cut out excess scar tissue when my intestines started getting pinched by it. As I sat in recovery, I received news that one of my heroes had died. Shit. When it rains it pours... and it really poured on thick when that "hero" turned out to be the perpetrator of a double murder followed by suicide. Fucking christ in a handbasket... so I again fell into a bit of a pit. My grandmother died shortly after that, also. She pretty much raised me and was one of the few people who always believed in me no matter what happened.... spiral continues. It's continued for a long time... but I kept chugging the medication, and the fatty hamburgers for comfort, and I kept pushing a lot of the stuff inside me deep down in the pit where I feed it bacon and donuts.

 I recently found myself on a stage with an amazing group of people who gave me a bit of a boost to my confidence. And I think I'm actually pretty good at what I'm doing in that realm... but I recently saw my performance, recorded by wife. And I was good. And I was fat. I was so fat, I kept seeing myself as this big huge fat guy on the stage who wouldn't be able to do the physical stuff that I was doing at that moment... and I stuffed another chip in my mouth and shook my head. I needed a new bag of chips shortly after that. And a soda.

Okay, so here we are about a month after that and I go to Thanksgiving with my in-laws where I'm sledding with my son and I can barely get up, my back is killing me, I'm in a lot of pain, and my mother in law is recommending that I get surgery for my stomach. One of those "Gastro" things or something... it's basically a plug to keep me from stuffing elevensies down the gullet. And I'm feeling really badly about myself, but I plaster on a fake smile and go through the weekend. And we're home, and I'm awake, and my brother-in-law posts this video about a man who hurt his back pretty bad during his time in the service. He wore leg braces and a back brace and he ballooned up, doctors telling him there was no hope, and he was utterly without hope. His frame was like mine.... the stomach pressed out, the back arched, and everything. I was already crying before he started talking about how someone did believe in him... and he went on to do this work out program developed by pro-wrestler Diamond Dallas Page. At the end of the video he had lost well over 100 lbs after a year... and he was running down the street.

TEARS!!! Oh yeah, and anyone who watches that video without getting a little choked up is a heartless sack, so don't get on my case for crying. I did, I'm not ashamed, and I went and woke up my wife... and I made her watch it. And I made her order DDPYoga for me... that's my christmas present.

I received the program in the mail today, watched the thirteen positions and how they're done, and gave it a try... and it kicked my ass.

 Let me clarify... because maybe you don't understand: I've tried diets before. I've tried working out before. And I'm in so much pain after my surgery that every work out results in me laying up for days afterward because I can't move, because I've worn myself out, and I get hurt. I collapse right afterward, soaked in sweat, breathing hard, gasping for air, and desperate for it to end. I've also drunk shakes, counted "points" and done all the other shit that everyone else tries and falls out of for whatever reason... it works for many, but I couldn't find the will to keep it up. It doesn't motivate me. It doesn't keep me going.

 When I say that DDPYoga kicked my ass, I'm not talking about pain. I'm not in any pain right now... it's been about three hours and I feel good AND tired. I'm worn out but I'm not gasping for air, I'm not clutching at a muscle that's sore, I'm not wincing as I move. My back feels tired but stretched out, my arms are worn out with a little buzz from the activity, and I don't think I'll be sore in the morning.

There's a nutrition program that is specifically not referred to as a diet... it's just nutrition with advice on how to change your eating habits. The recipes here sound good, and there isn't this dependence to count points or measure anything... just some good sounding recipes with decent ingredients.

 This isn't going to be easy... cutting fried foods and various other things won't be easy. That's how I've traditionally found comfort... but I'm going to try and I'm going to take notes in this blog. I'll post a picture soon for that world famous "Before" picture so many people have. Every month there will be a new picture... just one... to note my progress. I'm hoping to write once every two weeks regarding my progress (or lack) on the program.

 Wish me luck. -Mark

PS: A special thanks to the people who are helping me, some without even knowing it: Firstly, David... that video kicked me in the ass and I needed that. My wife, Robbie Ann, who has always pushed me to find the best parts of myself. My son, who is always a motivator in my life... and who is already having fun laughing at me trying to do these basic positions. And Jordan, whose intention to mock me has also given me encouragement to just use my weight loss as a means to kill his "fat" jokes. =)