Today marks my 42nd birthday.
This year, more than any other, I really feel the day - not because i feel old or anything, but because it marks the last day before I embark on a drastically new life. You see, tomorrow, I am finally getting in for my much-needed weight loss surgery.
At 42 years of age, I weigh in at 300 pounds. Now, many in our hobby may shrug at that number, but for me it's a very dangerous number. Not only does it bring with it the same potential problems as anybody who is significantly overweight, but in my case it is a very compact and localized weight that gathers most of it in a dense packing in my abdomen. It says something, that nobody that sees me believes that I weigh 300 lbs. It's all packing in around my vital organs and that just adds to the danger of it.
I made the decision to have the surgery about a year ago, after my wife's successes with the same surgery two years prior. I had to do something to make sure I would be hear to see my girls grow up and to be there for my wife into our old age. Willpower, just wasn't enough and a life like this had already taxed my body to the point where exorcising was damaging my knees and ankles which have always been weak my whole life.
It all came down to this logic - If you are a marathon runner and you blow out your knees, you have surgery to fix them. I have been marathon eating and now I am having surgery to fix my stomach which has been so abused as to not function correctly in its normal food intake reflexes.
As I said, this birthday is a bit more poignant than others in the past.