War against weight takes battle into the gym

By ROBERT MORGAN

I want to climb the long flight of steps at Odessa’s Ratliff Stadium during the regional track meet without stopping halfway to catch my breath.

I want to play football with my youngest son.

I want to go to a pro sporting event and not be squished into a 15-inch metal seat that leaves indentions on my thighs for a week.

I want to hike, surf and go on a 20-mile bike ride.

I want to wear a pair of size 36 jeans – the size I wore as a freshman football player at the University of Wyoming.

I want to lead a normal life.

Not a day goes by that I don’t picture what life will be like as a normal guy. Most people take outdoor activities for granted. Those of us on the heavier side are left to dream about those same activities.

Three short months had flown by since my bariatric Lap-Band surgery and things were going great. I’d managed to lose an eye-popping 70 pounds by December – approximately 23 pounds a month.

As expected, the weight loss has slowed in recent weeks. The early success came when I was on liquid diets and just not eating very much.

Knowing that I had to start working harder in my battle with obesity, my wife Marissa and I started talking about physical fitness. Once Dr. Curtis Mosier cleared me to start exercising, we were going to return to our hometown gym that we had not visited in a while.

Just as the topic came up, I began getting calls from local fitness centers that extended invitations for me to use their facilities. I was flattered to say the least.

I figured the opportunities were surfacing because the odds of a 439-pound man that was actually using a gym on a regular basis were slim to none. I can attest to that because I have tried to lose weight more than a dozen times in the last five years and every one of my exercise commitments lasted about as long as it took me to eat a medium pizza.

So why not extend me an offer? Heck, after a week or two I would fade away and not be in anyone’s way, but the gym would have made a kind gesture and an excellent PR move.

A week before my Dec. 5 follow-up appointment with Mosier, I got a call from Jon Cortez, co-owner of Edge Fitness in Bridgeport. He and his wife, Michelle, had been following my journey to lose 250 pounds.

What caught my attention was the personal attention they offered. For a guy that has not worked out since college – some 12 years ago – I needed more than a push into a room full of weight equipment.

We talked several times on the phone. The Cortezes not only invited us to use their facility for the next year but to also guide us personally through weight training and diet.

I was as excited as Editor Skip Nichols on election night. The chance to get reacquainted with a gym with some caring assistance was everything a fat guy needs in an insecure environment.

My visit with Dr. Mosier was great. He was thrilled with the continued weight loss, and he even noticed my clothes were two sizes too big. He gave me the green light to work out full-time with no physical limitations.

We visited the gym the next day. It was everything I had hoped for. It’s a small yet inviting facility that does not have mirrors at every turn. I was sure that the beautiful people like nothing more than to watch themselves work out, but there are those of us who do not need visual reminders of all the work that needs to be done.

All the cardiovascular machines are on the second level, overlooking the weight room. That was the best news for me. I had worried it would be like most gyms – all the equipment grouped in one large area where everyone is on display. Plus, going up a flight of stairs to get to the treadmill, elipticals and bikes is good for the knees.

We practically skipped out of the place when we were finished with the tour. We decided that the next week Marissa and I would tackle the next hurdle — working out every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

The start of the week rolled around and we made our first official stop at the gym. It was a good day to kick it off – there were only three other people “getting their sweat on.”

It also allowed Jon Cortez to follow me to the different pieces of equipment. If he wasn’t showing me how to use something, he was giving me kudos for the amount of weight I could lift and for my endurance on the cardio machines.

I think he was impressed, and so was I. I kept the same schedule for the first two weeks — 25 minutes on the treadmill at a brisk pace and five sets of 10 lifts on three different weight machines. I did butterflies, tricep pushdowns and lifted free weights.

It took about an hour to get my heart rate racing like a kid chasing an ice cream truck. I don’t remember how long it had been since I felt so good about myself.

I was all smiles leaving my first workout, and for no particular reason other than self gratification. This was proof I could handle a little hard work.

The first week went smoothly. My biggest concern about going to the gym was not dropping dead of a heart attack, but rather how others would treat me and look at me.

There is no one more honest than me when it comes to expressing opinions, and if I saw someone my size in a public gym I would probably nod and ask myself if that person would last more than a week.

Been there, done that.

This time, however, I was going to prove myself wrong. What others thought no longer mattered because I made this commitment for myself. I’m not going through this because of the discrimination I have dealt with over the years or the public humiliation I have encountered at the expense of a Decatur High School student.

I have the strength, courage and the will to do anything I want because it’s time to take my life back. The emotional scars will never heal, but my self-esteem and relationship with my family, friends and food are what matters most today.

My first knee injury since tearing my ACL in football was the highlight of my second week. A pop in my knee during the night hurt enough to wake me up. I thought nothing of it and knew all would be fine in the morning.

I could hardly walk. My knee hurt more with every step I took. My boss, Skip Nichols, had some concern about this whole working out thing because of the toll the weight has taken on my knees over the years.

The visit to the gym that day was limited to weights only. I could not get up the stairs, so the treadmill was not an option.

One trip to the doctor and my fear was put to rest. It was just scarred cartilage because of the sudden high cardio work my knees had endured.

The pain was gone by the next week and I was back on schedule. In fact, my walking increased to a mile and a half and I was up to 175 reps on the weight machines. It also helped that my wife was right there walking and lifting alongside me.

My efforts were paying off. I was down eight pounds in three weeks at the gym and was happy at 422. I was now down 87 pounds in three months and it motivated me to maintain my workout schedule.

A strict diet also played a role in my continued success. My breakfasts are limited to a half-cup of oatmeal, while my lunch and dinner consist of three ounces of chicken and a half-cup of steamed vegetables or a jar of Gerber baby food. Red meat and eggs are still nearly impossible to eat without vomiting or causing lengthy chest pains.

Now that I was convinced I could do this gym stuff, Marissa and I set some short-term goals before our summer vacation to Corpus Christi and California. She wants to shed 50 pounds by the summer, while I put my target at a 100 pound loss by the end of February and 150 by my birthday — July 31.

Prior to surgery, Dr. Mosier said a realistic goal would be to lose my first 100 pounds by April and approximately 144 by September, the one-year “bandiversary” from my surgery date.

The next three weeks were the best from a physical standpoint. It was just two months ago that the mere task of walking to the car after a football game would leave my feet in throbbing pain at the end of the night.

I broke in the New Year feeling better than I have in years. The aches and pains in my feet have been replaced by the desire to work harder and longer.

After an hour-and-a-half workout, I often find myself wanting to go another 30 minutes. I have been warned, however, that just because my body wants more does not mean my heart can keep up with my large frame.

My bi-weekly trip to the hospital on Jan. 8 left me shaking. I tipped the scale at 414, down eight pounds since Dec. 21.

With another huge scale victory, I was just five pounds away from losing my first 100 pounds. That’s a milestone my doctor did not expect me to reach until April.

Needless to say, I was more motivated to get to the gym and maintain my diet. In fact, we made it to the fitness center four times that week.

I wished we had never made that decision. My worst fear of using a public gym came to a reality the following Tuesday, the extra day we squeezed into the week.

As I sped into the final 20 minutes on the treadmill, two pre-teen kids on the lower level noticed me. One did a double take and then pointed me out to his buddy.

Their attention was on me the rest of my visit. When it was time to hit the weight room, I was the center of their focus and rude comments.

They did not know my wife was also in the weight room as they continued their rude ways. I felt as if I were a sideshow, and I grew more angry with every stare and giggle.

Finally, I called it quits and headed to the shower. I wanted to put my fist through a wall. I bust my tail and this is the reward I get. I blame poor parenting for such ugly children.

Why does this happen? I know kids will be kids, but this type of behavior is why it’s hard for many obese people to live as normal a life as possible. We are belittled no matter what we do or don’t do.

I know I speak for many others when I say that such childish acts are the main reason we stay away from the gym.

We have feelings, too, and at that moment, I thought that if I never went back to the gym it would be too soon.