Chapter 2: Rock Bottom

First of all, in my defense... eating healthy is a major pain in the ass.  That and it tastes like shit.  Unless we're talking about fruit.  One thing I have not had a problem with during this whole adventure is eating more fruit.  Jazz Apples kick major ass.  I've just always had a hard time with eating vegetables.  As a kid, the only time I could eat vegetables without gagging was when they were in a bowl of sirloin burger chunky soup, mostly because the vegetables tasted like burger.   Which is not the case with other cooked vegetables.  I still have a hard time eating them.  Which is not the case with cooked fruit.  3 words.   Apple. Pie. Crisp.

In the end... you are what you eat, and I ate like hell.  I would eat a whole frozen pizza in one sitting... a few hours later with a bowl of fruity pebbles in between, I would go to the store and buy two whoopie pies for desert.

Trust me...I had help. 

I would eat like this just about every night.  I remember getting somewhat of a wake up call when the cashier (who had seen me make this whoopie pie purchase almost every night) finally asked me with huge concern. 

"Dude, do you really eat two of those a night?"  and like a lying little bitch I said
"Nah, I usually have one tonight and another tomorrow during lunch"
"Ok good..  I was gonna say, eating one of those things makes me sick"

It was then that I made the fateful decision to go to different stores throughout the week.. to the simple minded cashier I was a stranger stopping by to grab a large sample of the best desert Maine has to offer.  Little did they know they were dealing with the local glutton. 

Little by little my shirts stretched out and my pants got tighter.  It was not long before all the simple things in life became a huge pain in the ass.  Stairs, walking longer than a half mile, fitting into shit, not being able to go on certain rides at the fair because I'm over the weight limit.. it sucked, all of it destroyed my confidence.  270, 285, 298, 315... holy fuck... 315?  15lbs heaver then Chris Farley on the night of his death.  You wonder why a guy has a hard time walking up to a pretty girl just to introduce himself.   I was only 24 years old and had already hit rock bottom..  The life of a fat guy tasted great, but felt like shit and looked like a huge fucking zit.

But that was just it... I was only 24 years old... It was not to late to do something about it.