Being Less Me… A Weight Loss Journey in 4 Parts: Part?4

by Dale Grant

Previously on TwinzerDad…

February 2024, my doctor hit me with what should have been shocking news. Turns out, Wilford Brimley and I now shared more than just character-defining facial hair—I was officially a type 2 diabetic. Given my family history, lack of physical activity, and PopTart-centric diet, it was no surprise that health concerns caught up with me before I turned 40.

Yet, this diagnosis turned out to be the best thing for my health in decades. It was the kick in the ass, the call to action I needed. Over the next six months, I completely overhauled my unhealthy lifestyle. I got a better understanding of my diet and started working out consistently. The result? I lost over 50 pounds before my 40th birthday in August.

So what has my journey taught me thus far?

The Good…

For starters, I just turned 40 years old, and I’m in better shape than I was at 25. I dropped from 237 lbs to 184 lbs in just under six months. My A1C dropped from 8.4 at the time of my diagnosis to 6.0 when I last had it tested in June.

I’m more confident in my appearance. I went from an XXL t-shirt to a Large. My jeans went from a tight size 38 to a loose size 34. I’m happier when I look in the mirror—well, happier anyway (I’m still bald, 40, and can only do so much with the raw materials I have to work with.) There were so many little victories that came from the change in my physical appearance. I was able to fit back into my favorite denim jacket. My Hawaiian shirts, which had been in storage because I couldn’t bear to part with them, worked their way back into my wardrobe. Quite possibly the best achievement? My wedding band fits again.

My mental clarity is much better, as is my emotional health. With my blood sugar in check, I no longer get foggy after consuming too many carbs or sugar. I’m sleeping better, which makes such a huge difference in almost every other facet of my life.

I’m a better husband and father. With more energy, I find myself saying “yes” when my kids want to do things. I love taking them on walks, and to the park because it’s an opportunity for me to walk. I joined in at the kids vs. parents soccer games and kickball games. I’m a happier, more energetic person for my wife, and I think a better partner.

Speaking of my wife, I couldn’t have done this without her. She puts up with a lot raising two and a half children. She’s been incredibly supportive through this entire process—whether it was eating baked chicken for the third night in a row, watching our grocery bill climb as I loaded our pantry up with Kind Bars and low-carb wraps, or experiencing the absurdity of me shaving the rice off my sushi rolls to cut down on carbs. She didn’t balk when I told her I needed to stretch our incredibly tight budget just a little thinner to join the overpriced gym because it was the closest and I knew that was my only chance of success. She’s stroked my ego and helped keep my fears in check. She’s never hesitated when I told her I was going to work out, even though it meant moving into zone coverage against our unruly velociraptor 8-year-olds. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.

There’s a lot to talk about in terms of the good I’ve gotten from my fitness journey, but I’d be remiss not to mention the overall satisfaction of being faced with adversity, coming up with a goal, working toward that goal, and achieving it.

I’ve lost weight in the past—once due to being under a momentous amount of stress and pressure, and another time more or less by accident. What makes this time different is I’ve been able to change my entire mindset, shifting my behaviors and setting myself up in a way that is, I hope, truly sustainable.

The Bad…

Of course, there’s the bad. You know what’s better and more fun than diet and exercise? Eating as much salty, fried, and decadent food as possible while expending as little energy as possible. Raising kids and working full-time is hard. Our political climate is rough. Money is tight. Calzones are warm pillows of unconditional love. Dieting sucks. Working out is exhausting.

A fitness journey requires a whole lot of sacrifice and not nearly enough naps. Motivation ebbs and flows. Maintaining a healthy relationship with food can be challenging. Fitness information is varied, contradictory, and everyone from shirtless jagoffs running around grocery stores to bald Hawaiian-shirt-wearing bloggers has an opinion on it. Just getting started can be incredibly overwhelming.

A fitness journey also creates the need to be selfish. You need to put yourself first in many ways. This could be everything from dictating how much time you need to devote to physical activity to what meals you’re willing to eat.

A fitness journey can be humiliating and humbling. Most of us are self-conscious about the way we look, and very little adds to that self-consciousness quite like being overweight. By the time you’ve gotten to the point that you might be ready to take on your fitness journey, you probably have never been to a gym or it’s been a while. What you’re doing never feels like enough, or you feel like you’re doing it wrong. We all have the internet, and we all see how hateful people are quick to fat-shame, even those working toward improving their health.

The Ugly…

Thin privilege is 100% a real thing. As someone whose weight has yo-yo’d their entire life, I can tell you that people treat you significantly better when you meet their acceptable standards for body weight. People are kinder. They smile more. They take your ideas more seriously. Read the comments on any body-positive message, and you’ll find it chock full of neck-bearded health experts slinging insults. It’s easy to see why people struggle to stay on the path with their fitness journey.

I think for me, the ugliest part of my journey is what happened before it began. Yes, a lifetime of poor eating and lack of exercise led me to the precipice of diabetes, but ultimately it was my declining mental health that pushed my eating habits from negligent to abusive. I had no idea how closely my mental health was tied to my physical health, but they definitely went hand in hand. I’m in a better place mentally, but I worry that I’m always one breakdown away from the house of cards falling apart. Thus far, I’ve passed this test that adversity has thrown at me, but I’ve failed many others too. Health is a lifelong journey, and there are always going to be obstacles along the way capable of making us stumble and capable of making us fall. The key is catching yourself before you hit the ground.

Final Advice… The Speed Round

• It’s never too late to start taking care of your health. In fact, start now.
• Every good choice you make strengthens you for the next one.
• The greatest motivators are results and encouragement. Track your progress and surround yourself with people who will build you up, not tear you down. If you know someone on a fitness journey, make sure you’re the same kind of positive person you need in your life.
• You can be doing all the right things and still hit plateaus, and it absolutely sucks. Remember that success is not linear and doesn’t look the same for everyone.
• What you consume externally is as important as what you consume internally. Ignore videos of shirtless jagoffs in grocery stores demonizing certain types of foods. There’s no “secret they don’t want you to know.” There’s no quick fix, cleansing, powder supplement that’s going to transform your life.
• In terms of exercise, find what works for you. If you don’t get some level of enjoyment out of it, you won’t keep up with it.
• Cut yourself some slack. Make positive changes, but you don’t have to do it overnight. Changing too much too fast is only going to discourage you and keep you from maintaining those changes.
• Comparison is the ultimate thief of joy. While often our situations can be similar, nobody is going through exactly what you are. Each person has their own unique family history, economic circumstances, traumas, and physical gifts and limitations. Don’t compare your success to others. Don’t hold yourself to the same standards. You set the goals, and you set the standards to which you will hold yourself accountable.

The final thought I would give you is just a reminder that I’m not a fitness coach, I’m not a dietician, and I’m not a doctor. I’m a grown man wearing a Hawaiian shirt who spends 20% of his net income on action figures and comic books who just happened to have some success with weight loss. So I hope you take from my journey what you will. If nothing else, I hope it encourages you to take the first step on your own fitness journey.

Because I promise you this… it’s worth it.