From skinny and tall to clinically obese and back again, David Kirchhoff of Weight Watchers documents his own struggles in "Weight Loss Boss." Here's an excerpt.
As a kid, I was embarrassed about how skinny I was.
As an adult, I hated being fat.
Some people are never satisfied!
These days, I am pretty content with the state of my weight203 pounds, about 40 pounds less than my peak just over a decade ago. And yet, Im hardly on autopilot. I know that staying here will not happen by accident. I will have to keep working to make these changes permanent.
Yes, losing weight is hard, sometimes. Yes, youll fail occasionally; I wrote the book on that (this one). But well also enjoy our successesand believe me, they are achievable. While this is work, its a job that has a big payday: It can help you live better, longer, more happily. As a special bonus, you can also look good doing it. (Style points count, right? Right!)
When I was a teenager, the very concept of being overweight was completely beyond my comprehension. In my family, I was a bit of a genetic freak. My father is 5 foot 10, as is my older brother, and my mother and two sisters clock in at 5 foot 2. I shot past them (to 6 foot 3) at a blazing clip; unfortunately, it left me looking like an underfed giraffe.
I was all arms and legs, and no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldnt gain weight. (Oh, I figured that one out big-time later on, though.) Throughout high school, I weighed a steady 170 pounds, which made me look like I was built out of coat hangers. There is nothing particularly cool about being able to see all of your ribs and discern a heartbeat between them.
Then I went to college, and everything changed: I gained 45 pounds in one year. Thats a disaster for most people, but for me, I finally looked seminormal for the first time. So I started to work out, got stronger, and rounded out my musculature. But after college, I went on to do graduate work in fatness. I was steadily gaining weight from newly acquired habits of nutritional debauchery and general slothfulness, sacrifices I told myself I was making for a high-paced professional life.
On July 23, 1999, at the age of 32, I got my first physical in about 7 years. In the time that elapsed between arriving in the waiting room and getting my blood work back a week later, my life would change.
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