I hate numbers, but I’ve learned to love them #LosingFatthew

Disclaimer: This is a weight-loss piece. You have full permission to ignore it.

115. It’s a random number — but, for me, it’s an important one.

In October last year, I weighed 115kg. It was the heaviest I’ve ever been. I’m really short, so it looks even worse than you’re imagining (yes, there are “before” pictures, but I won’t be sharing those; they’re entirely for me to check my own improvements). And it was this number that really got me thinking about my health, about my weight, and about my lifestyle. And that thinking made me realise: things needed to change.

 

I become obsessed with numbers. It started with Movember — I did the cancer check (I do every year), cholesterol check (which was remarkably perfect, given my weight and unhealthy eating), and all the other stuff that comes with an annual physical exam. I wanted to improve all those numbers, and come November when I go for my check-up we’ll see just how far I came.

But the number I was most obsessed by was 115. It became a motivating force. It pushed my daily. I vowed to never see that number again.

Today, 11 months later (I should, technically, have done a one-year-on piece, but thought that was a little clichéd), I’m far from that stupid 115. I’m at 98kg. 17kg down. Maybe I could have done better, but I’m happy with what I’ve achieved. And besides, I still have one more month until the official one year mark.

Post-gym selfie, taken mid-September when I broke 100kg for the first time. You can still see the bulge, but it’s gotten a little smaller.

Now I’m obsessed with a new number: 90. That’s the goal weight. 90kg.

And the ETT (estimated target time)? December 28. Why? My 30th birthday. And there will be no better way to celebrate than being the healthiest I have been since…well…Grade 11.