Patience pays off in battle of the bulge

By ROBERT MORGAN

I have been spoiled with success. My weight has consistently dropped at a rapid pace. I walk and work out more than I have in 15 years, and my sleep apnea is now a thing of the past.

A double-digit weight loss every time I hit the scale was expected. That didn’t happen the first month after I lost the first 100 pounds and I was dejected.

It made no sense to me. I work out 3-4 days a week, I eat no more than a cup at mealtime, and I want to be skinny by tomorrow.

Like all the other obstacles in this short journey, I successfully worked through my first weight-loss plateau. A little reassurance, patience and a Lap-Band adjustment were more than enough to get me back on track in March.

Living a healthier lifestyle and being considerably more active has given me a new outlook on life. I look forward to each day rather than hoping one day I would not have to wake up and face the cruel world.

Dropping 100 pounds in the first five months since Lap-Band surgery had me believing this losing weight thing was easy. However, I have been told by my doctor, nurse, physical trainers and even fellow Lap-Band patients to expect tough times in my weight loss journey.

They were referring to the weeks with no scale victory — those times when I hopped on the scale with full enthusiasm, only to be let down by no decrease.

February and March were the kind of months I had been warned about. In four weeks I lost just four pounds.

This disappointment came on the heels of my biggest celebration to date. I lost the first 100 pounds in January, nearly three months ahead of schedule.

I was disappointed again as I tipped the scale at an even 400 pounds on Feb. 8. Not only was I dejected because I had only lost two pounds over the last three weeks, but I also didn’t crack the 300s.

A four-pound loss for the month had me discouraged. I started second guessing my decision to go through all this trouble and continue living on 750 to 950 calories a day.

I wondered if my body’s ideal weight was meant to be around 400 pounds. I hear overweight folks often say they inherited their size or they were “just meant to be” fat.

If I was not going to lose much more weight, why work so hard for nothing? Why should I rush to the gym at 8 in the morning or stay there until 8 at night after work if I’m the size I’m supposed to be?

I called my physician, Dr. Curtis Mosier, to ask him about my struggles and disappointments. He said it was time for a Lap-Band fill.

Mosier said he was proud of my accomplishment of reaching a 100-pound loss ahead of his projection. He also indicated it was time to show my stomach “some love” with a Lap-Band saline fill on Valentine’s Day.

So, my Valentine’s Day was a date with the five-inch needle used for the fill. It’s the 30 minutes every few months when I become a human pin cushion.

Mosier, who had not seen me since Dec. 12, said he barely recognized me. That was good news.

This fill was much like the first blind adjustment back in December when Mosier had to find the port by instinct and knowledge. The port at the end of my Lap-Band is stitched to a muscle under the left side of my chest.

It took 20 minutes or so of poking around and several deep, forceful jabs for the needle to find its way inside the port. The shifting of the port while Mosier stabs away at it is one of the craziest feelings — it’s as if there is a pinball machine inside of me and the port is the metal ball ricocheting off every organ.

As I left the office, Mosier joked that he would see me “in about 50 pounds.” I laughed but I also hoped he was right.

The next month was busy for me. This was a good thing because now I was getting around better, faster and even with a little pep in my step. For the first time in many years, I was happy to be me. I’m no longer embarrassed to be Robert Morgan. I’m proud of the changes I have already made in my life.

My physical fitness trainers changed my workout routine to get me through the plateau. Instead of an hour of cardio, I cut back to 30 minutes of walking time. I had to substantially increase and decrease the incline every two minutes.

This new exercise regimen increased my heart rate, but it also raised my adrenaline rush, which pays off during weight training. I maintained my hour of weight lifting. However, I was told to add more lower body weights to my routine, as well as focus on one part of my body each day.

There was a time I would rather go to the dentist than to step foot in a gym. In December, my workouts were in the late morning or early afternoon so that I didn’t see a lot of people. Now that I have rebuilt my self-esteem and confidence, my wife Marissa and I prefer to go at peak times.

My food consumption dropped to a little less than a cup of food for the first two weeks after my fill. I was also busier in the evenings as the basketball playoffs had started and track and field season was at its peak.

The interval workouts, increased activity and fill helped me to finally break the 400-pound plateau. I stopped by the hospital two weeks after I saw Mosier and I had lost nine pounds.

I had cracked the 400-pound mark – I tipped the scale at 391.

It was a great way to end February. I had another weight check two weeks later and I had lost another nine pounds.

The 18 pound weight loss in four weeks since my adjustment brought my total loss to 127 pounds in six months.

There were more physical differences. My waist was 11 inches smaller and I was quickly running out of clothes.

Like a lot of people I had kept all my clothes from years ago when I weighed less.

I unpacked all those pants and crossed my fingers that some of them would fit. Surprisingly, all of them did. I had a new wardrobe.

Downsizing clothes was just one of many perks in March. Co-workers mentioned I was walking faster. I rarely got hungry. I smile more than twice a day. An increased sex life might have something to do with that as well.

My diet has not changed since the beginning of the year. I have not had bread, pasta, sugar products or any kind of soda since my September surgery.

The next month, however, was going to have its share of challenges. I had several events coming up that would not only take me out of my workout routine, but also hinder my diet, and force me to miss my first support group meeting.

Trips to Odessa, Oklahoma and Austin were going to be eating challenges while on the road. There were also the obstacles I have waited to tackle since the day I went under the knife — taking on the mammoth flight of stairs at Odessa’s Ratliff Stadium and walking a six-mile golf course at the state tournament.

I dreaded those trips in the past. This year, however, those days could not get here fast enough.

I still see myself in the mirror as a fat, unhappy 509-pound man. I feel the differences, but the guy I see in the mirror every morning has not physically changed in my eyes.

This was the physical challenge I knew could help change my perspective and give me additional strength to win this losing battle.