Fat is What I am, not Who I am

I’ve been considered “clinically obese” for the majority of my life. So two months ago when a "doctor" told me I have pre-diabetes, I laughed. Ain't nobody scared of a little case of the Sugars. I’ve weighed anywhere between 275 and 333lbs for the last 15 years of my life. If I was scared of diabetes I would have put the fork down a long time ago.

After thoroughly enjoying my Thanksgiving, I weighed in at a whopping 324; only 9lbs under my previously mentioned max “life weight.” Unacceptable. This is an embarrassing fall from grace after getting down to 283 for my wedding in March. My knees went from allowing me to touch rim 9 months ago to now bearing the weight of an adult male panda; again.

Being fat is what I am, but it’s not who I am. Six years removed from my last snap of collegiate football, I need to focus on losing my “football weight” and start my own little "Jonah Hill Challenge."

This morning I weighed in at 311 and it is irrationally important to me to get under three bills by January 1st and stay light in the ass well into 2020. Will I eventually fail miserably? Absolutely; food is delicious. Much like Jonah Hill, I’ve embraced the fact that fat will inevitably come back and get me. But, I have new inspiration to lose the weight for good (outside of squeezing into the slim-fitting XXL Barstool merch).

I’m inspired to finally lose my “football weight” so my unborn son will never know me as a "fat.” I have a rare opportunity to change the narrative around me and my weight for the foreseeable future. I'm hoping my son will be confused to learn his Dad's nickname was "Snacks" in college. I want him to be shocked when his mother tells him that dear old Dad has broken 14 chairs by simply sitting in them.

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In the past, I’ve had terrible success staying under 300lbs. I embarrassingly have a large assortment of ‘before’ photos on my phone with no successful after photos to accompany them. The before photos above were taken December 24th, 2018 when I was 317. Enough's enough. From this point forward, I’m officially lifting the veil on my fat ass and just how fat my fat ass is until it is in fact, less fat.

To the Stoolies reading this, fuck a New Year’s Resolution. There’s no time like the present. It’s time to get a good look at your genitals WITHOUT a mirror present. Good Luck you fat fucks. Time to go for a walk.