By Jeremy Goins
My name is Jeremy. I stand at 6 feet 6 inches, and on February 24, 2013, I weighed 360 pounds.
I’ve never had a reason to fear or dislike numbers; in fact, I love numbers and data. However, I stopped using a scale because I couldn’t face the numbers under my feet. The larger they became, the smaller I felt. I ran from cameras, usually volunteering to be the photographer instead. Mirrors were banned from my home, except for one that I could use to shave, and even then I could only see my neck and shoulders. Whenever I saw an accidental photo of myself I sunk a little deeper into my depression while showing the smiling, joking me that I present to the world. Some of you will identify with what I’m saying, and that’s the only reason I’m exposing this part of me to the world. Some of you eat when you are sad, bored, lonely, etc. Some of you eat “just a little treat” and forget about it an hour later when another “little treat” crosses your path.
You may eat and not realize you’ve been eating until you’re halfway into your food. I know because I’ve been there. I’ve spent many nights alone, finding comfort in food away from a world I made myself believe was full of enemies and opportunities I couldn’t enjoy because of my size.
I know just a little bit about losing a lot of weight and I’m going to tell you the secret . . . no, the truth of my weight loss:
I decided to stop spending energy on my excuses and started spending it on my results. A Google search returned 59 million entries for “Weight Loss Diet.” It screams at you to give up now, and come back again later when the numbers aren’t so demanding. But there’s a solution.
What worked for me included cutting the excuses and sticking to a reasonable diet of 50 percent produce, 25 per- cent lean protein and 25 percent grain. First, I needed to say goodbye to my old friends. Mine were iced honey buns and sweet tea (I’m a good ole Southern boy). This hurts and you feel like you’re missing out on something that brought you joy. But after about three or four weeks, I stopped craving junk food. After a few more months, the idea of fast food made my stomach turn.
The final truth is that I failed along the way in my weight loss journey so many times.
I cried.
I loathed every healthy-weight person in the world. I looked for reasons why I couldn’t possibly lose weight to absolve myself of the responsibility.
I cried.
I felt so much frustration that I couldn’t wear clothes as well as others could. I was constantly reminded that I didn’t fit into the image of what is desirable and therefore was un-dateable and would always be alone.
I cried.
Then one day I stopped crying, and stopped getting angry or frustrated at the world. I simply let those feelings go like feathers into a breeze. I decided to push harder, to strive to be stronger and faster. Then I did it again, and again, so on and so forth. This entire cycle repeated itself and it hurt every time. I fell many times, but got very good at getting back up.
Finally, one day my world changed. It was July 7, 2016, the day before I was to compete in my first rodeo. I had dropped the weight, coming in at 212 pounds. None of my jeans were going to fit well enough to stay on me. I was nervous about shopping for new jeans, and encouraged myself that I could certainly fit into a 38 waist. That was only four sizes away from my size 34 waist goal.
The salesperson encouraged me to try on a pair of 33 waist Wranglers. They fit me well.
I cried.
–Jeremy Goins is the cancer registry supervisor at Littleton Adventist Hospital in Littleton, Colorado.