My Eulogy to Obesity

It has come time to bid farewell to that which has been such a large part of my adult life, in both a figurative and literal sense. Today, I say goodbye to obesity. Obesity has left me in this world, as the scale this morning told me. I am now below the 30 BMI mark with a weight of 227. It is time to reflect on the memories of a life with obesity and think about life without it around.

Dear obesity, you have always been there for me, through thick and thicker. We were first introduced in high school and really hit it off. We laughed and lived it up over pizza and soda on a regular basis, never skimping on the cheese or ranch dressing. Life seemed good. We enjoyed great chili dogs, fries, and countless pounds of fried goodness, smiling all the time.

You were there for me throughout college and my best friend. Unable to find a date on many occasions, we spent the night over prime rib dinners with all the fixings, living it up, or just kicking back playing computer games with a bag of chips. We traveled to Reno and lived it up on the all you can eat buffets and got our money’s worth.

The times went on, I graduated college and went to law school, and you were still there with me, an even bigger part of my life. We enjoyed more of the video games, the sedentary life, and tried everything fried. Heck, we even indulged once on deep fried butter with a cream alfredo sauce. We became inseparable. While we did start to part briefly a couple of times, we always came back together and you were always there with me.

I graduated Law School and you still stuck by me. I know you fought hard against me at times, decreasing my self esteem to a point where I almost didn’t have the courage to ask my wife on a date, but I know you did that because you wanted to always be with me. You stuck by me through thicker, starting my first job and moving into my first apartment.

You were there with me on my first trip with my wife to Yosemite with her family, coaxing me to spend more time with you and to pass up some hikes that everyone else went on. We laughed as we glided down the river, only to bottom out the raft in the shallow areas. While we didn't participate in everything, you did go with me on one small hike to Vernal falls. I know you complained the entire way, dragging at my heels, but we made it, sweaty and huffing for air. You convinced me I didn't want to do that again and I listened. We made up over an all you can eat breakfast in Curry Village. True to form, we got our money's worth.

You were there with me when I went to Hawaii with my wife. Sure, you talked me out of many water activities, but you were there for me, larger than life. Sure, you slowed me down on the hikes causing me to sweat profusely through my silk aloha shirts and sure you made me winded after 3 holes of golf, but you didn't let go despite all my complaints.

You became even bigger in my life, being right with me through my wedding and honeymoon. It seemed that every day you would become a bigger part of my life. No matter what I was going through in life, you were right there, ready with a nice burger and fries. And I partook. Oh, the buffets we conquered. Sure, it was tough to find clothes and we had to shop at only big and tall stores, but that is just the cost of having obesity as such a big part of ones life.

You were there for me on that wonderful cruise to Mexico two years ago. What a great place to be with you, dear obesity! We indulged in the richest and tastiest treats non stop for 12 days. At that moment, we were inseparable in life. Sure, we had almost gone our separate ways a few times, but each time we did, you would always spring right back into my life before we split, bigger than ever.

Yo even went with me to Kansas city and didn’t laugh at me last year when I grew that ridiculous moustache and took my dad to a Chiefs game, you were as supportive as could be, handing me a plate of gravy covered hash browns for breakfast and gorging on some ribs for dinner. We had a hard time in the plane seat, but once again that is the price you pay when you are obese.

Then, December of 2009 happened. Little did I know this month would mark the beginning of the end for you. That fateful cool December day on the Maliboomer ride at Disney’s California Adventure, things changed forever. I was kicked off of that ride because of you and my whole family was watching. I watched in horror as the safety strap on the ride would not buckle over my belly. The horror seemed in slow motion as the ride attendant told me I had to leave because of you. That changed things between us, and you started your downward spiral into oblivion. I didn't know it, but you would never recover from that incident.

I started running on a treadmill at lunch and bringing my own meals, forgoing our usual dining events at lunch. We stopped going out to rich dinners and stopped our secret fast food trips in-between meals. I could see that it hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of my life and I was slowly slipping away from you.

The months went by and we got farther and farther apart. I know how much that hurt you. Then, I ran a 5K race and loved it. That pushed us farther apart and pushed you one step closer to your eventual demise.

Eventually, we were not close anymore. You were still a part of my life, but becoming less and less a part of my life. I saw your connection to me get smaller and smaller. I kept running. First a 10K, then 10 miles, then 12 miles, and then a half marathon. You joked with me that I couldn't make it in under 2 hours, but I did. You were there, but just a weak and feeble version of your old self, almost gone.

More time went on and I could tell that you were on your last leg, fighting to survive. You were still dedicated to me, trying everything you could to stay, but we both know it was your time. You only had days left and then you would be gone forever.

Then, Friday, November 5, 2010, I stepped on the scale and saw that you had passed on. It was surreal really. Although you were slipping away all the time and I knew you would soon pass, it still shocked me a little when you were really gone. For the first time I can remember you were not part of my life anymore. The BMI charts said I was now below 30, no longer obese. You were no longer a part of my life and are gone forever.

Sure, I will miss the instant gratification of sharing a whole large pizza with you, but I will survive without you. You are gone for good now. You have taught me much about life and what I want to do with it, thank you for the memories. I will always remember you, dear obesity, and will use that memory to help me achieve the impossible and never forget where I came from or what you taught me. Indeed you gave me the adversity that I have now overcome, without which my life would not be the same. Everyone has adversity somewhere in their life and it is only by overcoming that adversity that one can be truly happy, and for that I thank you.

Obesity, the sun has set on your last day.

May you rest in peace.