Me and Food

Regardless of where I’ve been in life, personally or professionally, it was always about the food. It was always about the food. The sights…the smells…the taste. I always lived for the experience of when and what I would eat. It was often the most exciting part of my travel – by car, plane, train, boat, etc. I enjoyed checking all the exit signs on I-95 that showed all my favorite fast food rest stop options with a few new sandwiches and old favorites to try. And then there were the packaged snacks at gas stations or public rest stops. I’d always to run to the vending machines to glean over the candy and potato chip options.

I loved browsing the plethora of eatery options at airports. The bakeries, the sit-down restaurants and bars and, of course, the fast-food joints. This was considerably enjoyable when visiting international airports. I often looked for local versions of fast food, but also sought out the American originals to spot the subtle differences in the menu, food preparation and service. Of course, I loved to try local treats that I probably wouldn’t find anywhere else (outside of a handful of international cities). While visiting museums or breathtaking natural landmarks, I always anticipated the next meal. The next opportunity to experience gastronomic joy in a new place with distinct (but often familiar) sights, smells, and tastes. Whether alone or with my family, these are special moments that I cherish.

The concept of what I ate or how much I ate, from a nutritional perspective, was hardly ever a concern. Even in periods where I regularly worked out at a gym, the idea that I would somehow moderate these foodie experiences – for anything – just seemed absurd. I needed, I wanted to live and enjoy my life, which I’ve done.

Over the last 10-15 years, food has been an especially integral part of some very important relationships and life experiences including the birth of children, the gathering of extended family and friends from different cultures, the celebration of professional accomplishments, and the stressful moments of life transitions. Somehow, food, whether familiar and comforting or new and adventurous, has always been at the center of these moments. It was very seldom a time that I would seriously consider the careful monitoring of what I ate or how much I ate. In the back of my mind, I knew such a concept was supported by science, but I simply indulged myself (literally and figuratively) in the idea that I needed to enjoy life and those special moments that seemed to always involve tasty treats of some kind.

Then came the pandemic and the prospect of no longer having my teaching job while helping to care for two children at home. Suddenly the idea of monitoring what I ate or altering my diet was no longer laughable. I experienced an epiphany and came to terms with my stubborn love/lust for eating without restraint. For so long, I ignored the idea that I might have been wasting my time in the gym all those years because I had little interest in complimenting my weightlifting, which admittedly wasn’t much, with any kind of nutrition. I never really liked going to gym. It was actually a chore; a way of psychologically permitting myself to maintain thrilling, but dangerously uncontrollable eating habits.

So, in March 2020, I took the proverbial plunge off the cliff and decided to see what life would be like as a person who ate reasonably sized portions. I attempted this approach in January 2020 but fluctuated with inconsistent eating and exercise until the March 2020 lockdown. Then I began to incorporate moderate exercise 3-4 times a week with the new approach to eating. By “moderate exercise” I mean walking my (at the time) infant son in his stroller for two hours a day and occasionally doing 20-30 pushups. Maybe 2-3 times a week (OK, maybe 1-2 times per week). Gyms were no longer accessible with the lockdown…and it turned out to be the best thing for me.

The combination of walking (occasionally biking) and consistently monitoring my daily eating (and selecting healthier options over time) would result in the seemingly impossible. On January 6, 2020, I weighed 244 pounds. By January 5, 2021, I weighed 204 pounds. I gradually lost 40 pounds! During this period, I began to learn how to take better care of my body primarily through a significant change in my relationship with food. I never wanted to accept this; nutrition was actually more important than exercise. What (and how much) I put into my body mattered and I finally began to see the results of accepting this fact. The second year (January 2021 – January 2022) of my journey was about increasing exercise and expanding the possibilities of my new approach to eating and learning how to fit that new perspective into my interactions with family and the limited, socially-distant contact with friends and acquaintances. I continued to lose weight, but at a much slower, deliberately gradual pace. I went from 204 pounds in January 2021 to 194 pounds in January 2022.

In the coming weeks and months, I will share more about my gradual weight loss and body transformation; how they have forever shaped my relationship with food, gradually affected my body composition, and significantly impacted my wardrobe! Why? Because I am an average, sedentary man who realized – through a sustained effort of sensible eating, borne out of a sense of disappointment and despair – that it was indeed possible to find a healthier version of myself.