It is time to rename this blog. I started out shocked by the fact that I tipped the scales at 305, and dubbed myself the “Fat Pastor.” Today, on my third trip to the gym since Christmas, I took everything out of my pockets, got back on that scale, held my breath and found out that I now weigh 315. It is ridiculous. I am now “The Fatter Pastor.”
For the last five months I have had an abundance of excuses for not exercising. Some of them have been valid, some not so much. The bottom line is, today I am just under six foot two inches tall and I weigh 315 pounds. My resting heartrate was 80 beats a minute today, and after doing three sets of 135 on the bench press, I was wiped. All the progress I made six months ago is gone. I would say that I am starting from scratch, but I think its actually worse.
None of my clothes fit – not even my wedding ring. I carry my daughter upstairs to put her in bed, and I have to stop to catch my breath to say “good night.”
I’m disappointed with myself. I’m frustrated. And after a workout that six months ago I would have considered “light,” I am dead tired. I have to go to bed, I’m not looking forward to heading up the stairs, and that is pathetic.
The Fat Pastor 