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Overall, I was a pretty skinny kid. I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound. That’s not to say I was “healthy,” though. Having milk and Oreo cookies for breakfast, followed by a constant IV drip of Mt. Dew all day long, then topping it off with BBQ chips and popcorn and ice cream and/or whatever else I could stuff my face with – was not healthy. This pattern of eating continued. I mean, why not? Those Double Stuff Oreos are incredible, and I challenge anyone to find better BBQ chips than Middleswarth. Heck, I had a mini fridge in my office just for cubes of Mt. Dews. And that was just snacking – meals weren’t much better.
No one ever taught me about healthy eating, nor was there any reason to suspect how we were eating wasn’t “healthy.” I was raised by a spectacular single mom who taught me the values of life and relationships and family. Food was something we had to do so we wouldn’t go hungry. We had a typical, busy, stressful life, so food was meant to be quick and comforting. Food and snacking were something we did while watching movies together, playing a spirited game of Rummy or Nertz, or just gathering for whatever occasion. Heck, we had a word for it…”fressing.” Suppers were generally crafted from “a meat,” “a carb” and “a starch.” They were the keystones of the Pennsylvania Dutch diet – hearty, cheap, easy, and a way of life. Of course, following the main meal were homemade desserts (pies, cakes, cookies and/or ice cream). Oh my god! The Angel Food Cake.
Out on my own, I’d go “grocery shopping” maybe…once every three months? “But how,” you ask? Easy. I’d mound that cart up with anything that had a shelf life longer than plywood – Ramen, frozen meals like Viola, pasta and pasta sauce – I wanted easy (i.e. microwaveable) and cheap and I hated going to the store to get food. There were more important things to do like work and kicking ass on the pool table at the local dive bar.
I guess I should mention, and it should not come to anyone’s surprise, that I had tummy problem. For years (hell, ever since I can remember) I had problems having to race to the bathroom. In school, I had to run out of my graduation, because I got sick. In college, I had to cancel dates or cut them short, because I got sick. I had “altercations” with flight attendants, because Fasten Seatbelts sign be damned, I was getting sick! At one point, I was almost rushed to the hospital due to a tachycardia episode. Why? Because, I was in Disney and Disney doesn’t sell Pepsi products, they carry Coke products. Ya know what Coke doesn’t make? Mt. Dew. I was going through withdrawal symptoms from the lack of caffeine. Luckily though, I was still able to get my daily dose of sugar from the sweet tea so that I could wait in line for Tower of Terror for over an hour and just as I could see the roller coaster, yup – I would get sick.
Somehow, I learned to live with it. Somehow, I just dealt with the embarrassment and pain.
And so things went on, as they had for years…until that one day, when I was performing some deep couch sitting, fressing on some M&M’s and binging on House of Cards, that I had something I never thought I’d have – a belly. I played with it for three episodes – folding it, squeezing it, flapping it, smacking it, sucking it in, sticking it out. Oh my god! Now, I was not “fat” – okay, well clinically I was, but not to most people’s standards – but there was definitely a “spare tire” thing happening down there. And that wasn’t all. I was getting tired so easily. I couldn’t run around with my kids. I couldn’t be the active husband I wanted to be. Around the same time, we were getting screened for life insurance. Oh, that didn’t go well. My cholesterol was elevated, triglycerides were high, HDL low, LDL high, liver function was crap, kidney values concerning, my blood pressure was normal so there’s a win, but it was starting to have an effect on my self-esteem and my confidence and, yeah…I was a bit bummed out…depressed, really. What was happening to me?
I’ll tell you what. I had developed, “a dad bod.” And, for those of you who don’t know,
“A dad bod is a guy who is not incredibly chiseled, but at the same time, is not unhealthy. He’s not overweight. He’s probably that guy who played football in high school and came to college and didn’t play football. Maybe he had a few too many slices of pizza, or a few too many Ramens, and just ended up with a little bit of squish on top of his muscle. It’s a healthy body. It’s a boy-next-door look. He’s the kind of person you go on a hike with, and then at the end of the day, you eat pasta and lay in bed and watch a movie.”
I mean, what the f&*%! No offense, but I did not want to be lumped into the same physically descriptive category as Robert De Niro or Adam Sandler. I mean, Leonardo DiCaprio and Chris Pratt aren’t terrible men to be compared to, but this isn’t what I wanted to be labeled as. When I look in the mirror I see Daniel Craig, not Jason Segal. Oh! But I’m starting to see it now, and then…the scale tipped. I never imagined I’d ever see THAT number!
That was the last straw. It was time for a change! I had NO idea what I was doing, but damnit, I was going to give my wife and family (heck, I was going to be) Matt Damon in Jason Bourne, not Matt Damon in The Informant.
And so…I just started. Out of shame, embarrassment, necessity and self-preservation, I just started doing something about it. Anything I could do was going to be an effort to dig myself out of the depression and sickness. I had no idea what I was doing or how to do it, but I knew continuing on this same path would surely end in disaster. I couldn’t afford to cruise any longer, and the only person that was going to be able to help me was me.
It was time I changed.
It was time I became accountable.
It was time I became an adult, but even more so,
It was time I became a role model for my family and my kids.
My life would never be the same – and all for the better.
Click here to continue on Tobias’ journey: Part 2: Simple is as Simple Does
Featured Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
