Happy trails: Weight loss critic provides plenty of summer encouragement

By ROBERT MORGAN

I received more than 100 letters, cards and e-mails in my first 18 months following weight loss surgery. Some were encouraging words about my decision to undergo Lap-Band procedure and congratulatory letters regarding my surprising success, while others came from readers who had questions about the surgery because they were looking into it for a family member.

I have pretty thick skin when it comes to criticism as most know by some of my infamous columns. But when it comes to my weight, I get bent out of shape real quick.

That's exactly what happened when I received a letter from a gentleman from Boyd. He rambled on for what seemed like forever about how tiresome my Losing Battle series had become and that people were sick of me bragging about my success on pages that should be filled with real news. He claimed to have already canceled his subscription and that he knew several others who were dropping the paper simply because we wasted space.

That was the end of the series for me. I didn't want to bore people any longer, but most of all, I did not want to appear to be bragging. I reflected on the past year and all of the people I have met at games, the grocery store and even at the gas pumps who commended me for my efforts and encouraged me to share my personal struggles with thousands of others.

Reality slapped me in the face when I met two people who had Lap-Band surgery because of reading my journey. There was one guy who said he lost 70 pounds through diet and exercise just because he was motivated by my stories.

To know I had that effect on people was simply awesome. I had goosebumps knowing that I had changed the lives of at least three people, and it's not something I had ever planned.

I just wanted to inform those who are not facing a weight problem what it's like to live in a world of obesity. This has been my way to let others walk in our shoes without ever being laughed at, discriminated against or having struggled to find a size 64 pair of pants.

Knowing the good that has come out of my series was more than enough to forget about "Mr. Boyd." In fact, the only time I allow him to occupy my thoughts is when someone approaches me and says a few choice words about him before asking me to keep the series alive.

It's alive and is going to continue until the journey has come to a successful finish. My new-found motivation came just in time for my summer travels.

My wife and I avoided traveling like the plague before my surgery as my weight kept us home year-round. Our journey to Shreveport and California last summer was the best time we have had in our marriage after I had lost 150 pounds.

It had been 18 months since my surgery, and this summer I had lost 225 pounds as of June. I was excited to wear my XXL shorts (down from 6XL) and my new size 46 pants (down from size 64),

Both are still large sizes, but not many people know what it's like to walk around in clothes 20 inches smaller than those worn 18 months ago. I felt like one of those Abercrombie & Fitch employees with my new "skinny clothes" while on vacation.

Our first trip was to Corpus Christi where most of the time was spent with my select varsity basketball team. We won the tournament, as we usually do, but the best part was discovering what it's like to have a family-fun vacation.

We stopped in San Antonio for family day at Schlitterbahn Water Park. I remember making the mistake of taking the family there four years ago when I was at my heaviest at more than 525 pounds.

That year, I sat under a canopy eating a sausage-on-a-stick, large soda and some Dippin' Dots while my wife and boys had fun on their own. They checked in with me at times but I stayed clear of walking and water as I sweltered in blue jeans in my corner of the park.

I walked our group to death this year. We walked for miles as we went from one end of the water park to the other. I even spent a few hours in some of the water rides with my family. A couple of the girls from our team joined us, so we did a little rafting on the tubes as well.

It was a great time. It was like I was 18 again and meeting my two boys for the first time, only this time as an active dad.

Our four-day weekend moved on to the Riverwalk and then to Corpus Christi. We made daily stops at the beach and did a lot of sightseeing when we were away from the gym.

We even stopped by Doc's, our favorite restaurant that is on one of the sandy beaches overlooking the water, with the evening ocean breeze blowing through the building.

I had my biggest cheat of the trip at Doc's when Marissa and I shared a fishbowl margarita. I was a good Lap-Band patient and did not use the straw, but I was not-so-good by drinking half of it. I felt I deserved it.

We returned home with some bad news from the scale. I had not lost a pound in three weeks. I immediately thought back to that fishbowl that was probably loaded with 3,000 calories.

I lost two pounds in the next four weeks leading up to our biggest trip of the year - California. It wasn't much weight, but I had no time to get upset because I was thinking about flying for the second time in 15 years.

Within hours of landing on the West Coast we were in Laguna Beach, which I believe is the best place to be in this country. It never got warmer that 75 degrees and the nights were never cooler than 65.

We walked along the hilly downtown business district, Pacific Coast Highway, and hung out on the beach for hours. We sat. We took pictures. We sat some more. We took more pictures together, with the sunset in the background.

We did all the things I thought I would never do again. Leaving the house to go to Wal-Mart was my "going out on the town" night just two years ago.

Now, I try to do as much with my wife as possible. We can never make up for lost time, but we're having fun pretending we can.

We went to San Bernardino to see my 30-year-old brother, James, who is in a nursing home. He is battling paralysis and brain damage since waking up after a year in a coma.

James now remembers everything except the accident. He even remembers the way I used to look, act and other stuff we don't need to reveal.

Our mother called while we visited with James. I don't know her exact words but his response was, "Oh, he still looks like Robert ... just a little smaller." I love that kid.

We never talked about my weight during our trips there. He knew how much I hated my life as an obese man so he stuck with the good stuff - telling Marissa some of my more embarrassing childhood moments, like the time we were break dancing on street corners for spare change.

We went back a couple of days later to see him before we left. He requested one of those famous In-N-Out burgers with fries and a large Coke.

We left with two of those amazing hamburgers - one for James and one for us because it looked way too good.

Marissa and I shared ours, but my half was gone before we got back on the highway. I took the bun off and enjoyed the patty and the special sauce. It was very good, yet very bad.

In-between the visits with James, we visited places we had not seen before. I also showed Marissa the places where I grew up, and we had adult time at night.

We danced a little, found some karaoke and just enjoyed being together.

While we had gone on dates and had evenings alone after my surgery, we saw this kind of "adult" trip as a honeymoon.

The weight-loss honeymoon was over when we returned home on my birthday. I had not lost any weight while on the trip and had lost just two pounds in the last two months.

My eating had doubled in the last six months from one cup of food to two. Though it's still not a lot to consume, it was a huge increase since surgery.

I have needed a Lap-Band adjustment for a long time. It's been more than a year since I had one but as of late, I couldn't afford to pay the $150 to get one done.

Something had to be done because I was losing my Losing Battle. All this work was coming to an end just because of our finances.

I didn't want to disappoint my family, friends and all of my journey followers by getting so close to my goal only to hit a roadblock.