Lardass, or not Lardass? That is the question...

For most of my life since my teens my weight has fluctuated in a really disturbing manner. I've been as heavy as 240+ pounds, or as light as 173 pounds. Throughout the transitions, the weird thing is that I've always stayed relatively active. Even when I'm really fat I still do a lot of outdoor activities--mainly hiking and backpacking. When I'm as fat as I've been I would still have the energy and stamina to hike up steep mountain slopes.

But when I'm thinner I feel a hell of a lot better than when I'm a lardass. So...why would I even allow myself to become a lardass? Outside of the fact that I love food and I enjoy eating, I couldn't say. Perhaps my metabolism is such that I add pounds more easily than most people do. And when I'm fat I desperately want to get back to a lower weight. But then I realize the work and torture involved (extra exercise and bothersome dieting) and continue along as I was, eating and enjoying the good life.

I discovered over the years that I can lose a lot of weight in quick order when I put my mind to it. But if I backslide even a little, then the calories catch up with me and the lard goes back on and I find myself in the fatty section of the clothing store yet again, and must look with disappointment at the boxes of clothes that I can no longer wear stacked accusingly in the closet.

The past ten or so years have seen me repeating the same crimes of weight gain/ weight loss over and over. I would pack it on, then buckle down and get it off, only to see it return over time. My latest struggle has seen me taking the pounds off again, but this time in a much slower and more controlled manner. Over the past year I've managed to lose thirty-five pounds and get myself back below 200 for the first time since I returned from my backpacking trip to Colorado. I'm feeling pretty good and would like to knock off another ten or fifteen pounds. Will it happen? I'm not sure, but it would be nice to not have to carry that flab up the slopes in Glacier National Park.

We'll see.

The fattest I've ever been (2005). Over 240 pounds. On a backpacking trip in the Black Mountains of North Carolina.

A year later I had dropped over fifty pounds.

In 2012, after two weeks of altitude sickness in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado I was getting toward a normal weight since ballooning to about 220 during the year. By the time I got home I was down to 195.

And within six months here I was back up to almost 230 pounds again!

And now, roughly a year after that I am under 200 pounds once more. The struggle to stay healthy continues.