(P.S. This is the second article in this series. If you haven’t read the first post then go do that first so everything makes sense, you silly goose.)
The Spandex Epiphany
I provided a photo near the end of my previous post where I was riding the Hotter N’ Hell 100K (about 62 miles) in August of 2024. I was pumped to get these photos — because who doesn’t want to see a 330-pound, sweaty dude wearing spandex riding a bike?
Unfortunately, I was not pleased with what I saw. Don’t get me wrong, the photographers did a fantastic job. I mean, they really did. They normally always do. The problem wasn’t the photo; it was the subject.
I know that some people are constantly vain about these things, and even when they have good photos taken of them still reply with, “Oh, I hate it. I look so ugly.” This wasn’t one of those cases. The reason I hated these photos was because I finally realized that I was not doing well. Like, I knew I was fat, but these photos helped me to honestly see that my body was not in a good place whatsoever.
If I didn’t change my current mindset, my own stubbornness was going to kill me.
The Definition of Insanity
Now, hold up. Stubbornness? How are you being stubborn? You told me you had been trying your best to get all that weight down! How is that stubborn? Did you lie to me? Why would you do this to me? I want my money back!
First off, I already spent your money on new clothes — so too bad
Secondly, you’re correct that I had been doing everything in my power to get the weight down. And that was the problem.
See, the issue was that I figured if I just ate a certain number of calories and worked out consistently then I would lose the weight.
I mean, that’s what everyone else does. I’ve seen it. I’ve watched the TikTok vids, Instagram reels, inspirational marketing videos for different programs. They all say the same thing, so it’s got to work!
Look, just hear me out for a second. I know that I’ve been trying this for years. And I know I haven’t seen results in doing so. But I promise that I can make this work. I’m just not being strict enough with my diet and I need to work out more. Just give me a little longer to get them implemented and I’ll prove it to you.
Prior to seeing the photos above, this was the conversation I had constantly had with myself, and somehow, I just kept convincing myself that I knew what I was doing.
Blinded by Pride
This line of thinking had also caused me to see various forms of weight loss assistance as “cheating”. Gastric bypass, bariatric surgery, and weight loss drugs were all shortcuts. And I’d be damned if I was going to take the easy way out.
I mean, obviously the Official Fitness & Nutrition Plan of Joshua Farrow was clearly working wonders. It was so successful that I’d developed high blood pressure, was morbidly obese (BMI of 40+), and began experiencing tingling and numbness in my fingers and extremities. Not to mention that there were other issues occurring, of the male nature, that were “having trouble adding up”, so to speak.
And I really didn’t know what to do to fix any of it. And the prevailing mindset throughout all of it was how much I hated myself for even getting to this point. I hated that I couldn’t exercise without my heart rate basically maxing out (consistently hitting 180–190). I hated that I had to constantly shop at big and tall stores just to find clothes that fit me correctly. Most of all, I hated that I couldn’t even put on my freaking shoes without having to somehow move my stomach out of the way.
But nope. Meds and surgery weren’t for me. I was going to fix this somehow. I had convinced myself that if I took one of those options, it meant I was a quitter. I knew people these had worked for, and I was genuinely happy for them. But was I going to take them? Nah, I’m good, dawg. Just over here sweating through t-shirts and trying not to die.
“I’d prefer to do it the old-fashioned way, thank you very much,” the stubborn man said as he continued to build his own coffin.
And then I saw those cycling photos and everything finally shifted.
More Than Just Being Fat
Because by seeing the photos above, I finally SAW myself. Like, truly saw the state of where I was at. I had seen other photos of myself before, and I knew I was bigger than the others, so I don’t know why this time around it actually made a difference. Who knows?
Maybe it was because I was wearing a skin-tight jersey that hides jack-all, and I what I was looking at was basically a steamed dumpling on a bike.
Whatever the reason, it finally clicked: I HADN’T been this bad my entire life. Even though I’d seen myself through “fat glasses” for years, I realized the majority of that was jacked up thinking. It hit me that I had no real grasp on my body size — or what it was doing to my health. In some sort of epiphany, I finally understood that I was not going to fix the weight issue until I somehow fixed how I viewed myself.
Because here’s the crux of the whole freaking problem: for all those previous years, I had convinced myself that people would like me better if I was skinnier. They would accept me. They would stop judging me for being fat.
And you know what that means was at the heart of my thinking?
That I was completely shortchanging everyone around me. Full stop. Main-character syndrome 100%. Because of course, everyone that I walk by is side eyeing me. And of course, everyone I talk to is just being nice, and internally they’re thinking I need to lose weight. I mean, of course, everyone around, whether I know them or not, must be hateful and judgmental and couldn’t possibly be decent and kind and loving.
Because when you hate yourself, you assume everyone else does too.
It’s incredibly tough to change yourself when you won’t even give yourself a chance to be loved and cared for. When you’re basing all of your decision on how others will feel about it, the whole plan is doomed from the very beginning.
Finally, we were at a place where real change could occur.
No Such Thing as Coincidences
With a whole shift in my mindset, I was able to completely change everything in a week…. ha-ha nah, I didn’t have a freaking clue where to go next.
I talked it over with my wife and told her that we needed to make some major changes to our diet. I began doing some research into GLP-1 agonists, such as Zepbound and Wegovy, since these had recently been approved as treatment for obesity. Unfortunately, insurance would not cover these at the time, and the only way for me to get on any of them was to actually be diagnosed as diabetic. At the same time, we decided that the best thing we could do was to adopt a diet reflective of being diabetic. We figured that cutting out added sugars and adding in more veggies, fruits and lean meats wasn’t going to hurt.
Little did I know that these were exactly the steps I needed to take.
About a month later, on November 11, I was dorking around on Facebook when I stumbled upon a post from a grade school friend. He had decided to share a post about some major weight loss he had gone through that all started due to him finding out he was diabetic. We’re talking over about a hundred pounds of weight loss. This was the first time I read a post like this that finally hit home for me. This wasn’t some random person on a TikTok video or an Instagram reel. It was someone that I knew. And while we had drifted apart after high school, just due to how life works, it was still someone that had had a positive impact on me when we were growing up.
And what did he do? He got put on GLP-1s, changed his whole diet, and began working his butt off to change things around.
So, I reached out and started asking him questions. I figured the best way I was going to learn was to gather information. He confirmed that the diet choices we were making were fantastic and also recommended that I talk to my doctor about getting some bloodwork done. As it just so happened, I had a routine checkup coming up, so that’s exactly what I did.
On January 8, 2025, I walked into the doctor’s office. We spoke about the changes we had made to our diet, and we also talked about GLP-1s. My doctor was very much in favor of both of those items and immediately ordered some bloodwork. It had been about 6 years since my last set of labs, so we figured I was due.
Two days later, I got the call from the doctor’s office that the results had come in. My A1C was 8.5. This meant I now had type 2 diabetes. They were sending over a script for Mounjaro and they’d see me in 3 months for another round of bloodwork.
Did I have any questions? Uhhh…yeah. A lot. But the diagnosis itself was not even remotely surprising. Funny enough, as I’ve told those closest to me, the news of this honestly came across as a relief. I was now absolutely forced to make changes if I wanted to get this under control. I also pushed away the idea that this was “cheating” by taking the GLP-1s. When you’re sick, the doctor prescribes medicine to help you get better. That’s exactly what was happening here.
Regardless of what I thought about any of this though, I had work to do. And the first step was to shut up and take the dang medicine.
One thought on “Shut Up and Take the Dang Medicine”
Comments are closed.