Age 0-27 [The Age of Metabolic Arrogance]
Great years… high metabolism, tons of sports, ate whatever I wanted and could not crack 150lbs to save my life. Life was good and I was cocky. I worked in restaurants all throughout high school and university. Contrary to popular belief, working in kitchens actually works great as an appetite suppressant… weight 160. Could run for days.
Age 28-30 [The Age of Metabolic Reckoning]
1998: started out great… first real job that would eventually lead to a career. Not a ton of great stuff to eat in the neighborhood, McDs, BK, Subway, Taco Bell, the 4 horsemen of the dietary apocalypse. Desk job coding like the wind and Quarter Pounders… seemed like a great combo at the time… weight 180. Could run for hours.
1999: Bro-In-Law staying with me and (my) eventual wife over the summer… start joking about impending metabolic decline and the motto “200 in 2000” was born… weight 190. Could run for minutes.
2000: Stopped playing soccer, started Super Sizing… in retrospect, the incorrect decision. Got married, the right decision… weight 235 [ish]. Can’t find my running shoes.
Age 31-39 [The Age of Metabolic Indecision]
Let’s see… gym membership, sessions with trainer, eating better, Atkins, couch to 5K… nothing really sticking. 2 Kids now enter the picture and maybe time to smarten up… weight 200. Bought new running shoes.
Age 40 [The Age of Metabolic Resurrection]
Hit 40 halfway around the world. Got schooled in the art of hole-digging. Kids find an old picture of Mommy and Daddy and ask “who is the guy with mommy”… ouch… Groupon to the rescue!
Green is Good!
Dumo Goes To Boot Camp 