When I started this journey, I was feeling fed up with myself.
I had just been through a rough year. It started with the loss of my mom on Nov. 1, 2015, and was capped off almost one year later by the loss of my job at the end of October 2016 during a corporate reduction in force.
I had been with the company for 16 years. Like many other journalists, I gave it much of my life. Nights, weekends, extra hours. In the end, it didn’t matter.
I spent the next two and a half months funkified. I ate too much of not good for me food. I drank too much alcohol. And I got married to the couch. Never a small man, my weight shot up.