I wasn’t always obese. In fact, in high school I picked up the nickname of “bones.” Twice I was brought to the principal’s office because teachers thought my parents were not feeding me. I was a skinny kid but never considered myself that skinny. I ate like a horse.

My journey to the Obese III category began in 2001. I was in car accident. We were t-boned from the right side by a red light runner. The impact snapped my neck and severed the phrenic nerve paralyzing my right diaphragm. This rendered my right lung basically useless. I wasn’t diagnosed until days later when I started to complain of being out of breath doing any physical activity. An x-ray “sniff test” immediately revealed the paralysis.

Cardio became difficult. Anything involving large muscle groups quickly sapped the oxygen from me. Over the years I became more sedentary as all physical activity winded me quickly. I started to slowly gain weight and excuses. Cooking became a passion and that made me heavier. I tried several diets but avoided exercise so any weight loss was temporary and fleeting. At some point I think I just gave up and acceepted that I was obese and sedentary.

As a farm kid physical activity was related to doing chores. It was hard work. While my friends in town got to play I was feeding cattle, mucking out stalls, baling hay, picking rock out of the fields. I didn’t need exercise, I needed a break. I wanted to play. Our free weights were hay bales and shovels. This attitude toward strenuous physical activity would later play a role in my journey toward Obese III.

I added a few pounds every year. No one said a thing. I slowly went up in pant and shirt sizes. Every couple of years I had a new wardrobe until I maxed out at a 44″ waist and XXXXL shirts. I was a big guy. When I walked my shoes squeaked. In fact, I struggled to tie my shoes and even made the switch to slip-ons. It all happened slowly.