PlyoFit - Blog

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Timing

Thu, 15 Dec 2016 19:55:00 +0000

“Follow your passion, be prepared to work hard and sacrifice, and, above all, don't let anyone limit your dreams”.

2016 was an eventful year for me full of face-in-palm moments and feelings of Incredible triumph. I experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. One thing I’ll walk into 2017 knowing is that through all of it the fire that was ignited in me two years ago when I decided to start my journey is still burning stronger than ever except now my sights are set on a far bigger path.

For so long now I’ve put off moving forward on my plans to take what I’ve learned from being that 330-pound sloth who refused to get off the couch to someone who lives for the gym and pass it on to those who have struggled and do struggle with the issues. I used timing as an excuse, again and again, telling myself that I don’t know enough yet, that nobody would take me seriously because I was still kind of hefty, that I should take more time to master my craft before I put any of it to use. Timing is a funny thing because honestly there is no such thing as good timing, life is going to keep throwing shit at you and if you’re waiting around for the perfect time you may never even get started.

There was a span of six months this year where life was throwing shit at me in the form of car accidents, a total of four in six months. Now the first was all me I made a very dumb mistake and paid the price as far as my body was concerned, but everything healed up physically. The second accident, not so serious, with no cost on my body, but my mentality slowly started shifting. Then the third, this accident which came in the form of someone running a red light, came at the most cost because now not only was my body out of commission but my mentality completely shifted to holy shit I’m cursed. The fourth was very minor and meant nothing but a scratch in my paint, the only real damage that was done was what it added on to my already shaky psyche. You see through all of this I was making my decision to leave everything behind and chase my passion of becoming not only just a personal trainer but a life coach who did anything and everything possible to help others achieve what I did and experience the amazing feeling I had when I accomplished everything I had dreamed of. Doubts, of course, crept into the back of my mind, maybe I wasn’t meant to do this, maybe this is just the world telling me to back up and rethink this whole thing, maybe just maybe this is just the world telling me that its not the perfect time.

I have been working out at Plyo for almost two years, I have spent more time in that gym than I probably have anywhere else besides my own home, other than my immediate family I’m pretty sure the person I have spent the most time with these past two years is Carlos. Before I even started interning at Plyo I would finish my workouts and just sit and observe other clients, I would observe how they reacted to workouts, how far they were willing to push their body, how often they said they couldn’t only to do exactly what they doubted they could a few seconds later, sometimes for hours I would just watch and pick up as much as I could. Eventually, I was offered a spot as an intern and for months not only was I observing but my feet were in the fire and now I was learning hands on. Even with a couple of instances where Carlos has been away and I was given the opportunity to run the gym on my own but I was still timid, unsure of what I actually knew and what I could actually do. I have been an official employee of Plyo for a couple of months now and up until a month ago, I was still asking myself whether the timing was right to start taking on my own clients.

You know when the perfect time actually is? When you decide to stop letting timing actually be an excuse to stop you from doing the things you want to do. We all make time for the things that we really want and I finally decided I was going to stop making excuses and letting the crap life threw at me hold me back, that through it all I was going to make the timing right myself. Last month I took on my first client finally deciding it was time to put everything I have learned to use. I cant really tell you why I doubted myself. All I can tell you is that it was a huge mistake. You won’t know what you’re capable of or whats actually right for you unless you try no matter what you’re going through. I’ve been lucky enough since then to pick up more clients who trust me to do right by them.

“Follow your passion, be prepared to work hard and sacrifice, and, above all, don't let anyone limit your dreams” The need for good timing isn’t going to stop me from following my passion, I am more than prepared and willing to work harder than anyone and sacrifice, but above all I will not let anyone, especially myself, put a limit on my dreams and neither should you.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Open Letter

Fri, 26 Aug 2016 18:49:00 +0000

Dear ________,

I’m writing you this letter for no other reason than to tell you that I am with you. Whether you are just starting your journey or you have been at it for a while I want you to know that I have been there and I know the struggle, the pain, and the constant feeling of wanting to quit. I need you to know that all those feelings pass and in time they turn in to feelings of pride, accomplishment, and a new found level of self-love.

First and foremost, if you are struggling with your weight and are ready to make that change in your lifestyle I hope that it is for you. Being overweight can come with a lot of pressure from friends, family, doctors, and just society, in general, to try and lose the weight. Please do not start this to appease the people around you or just because you want to be left alone, from personal experience that just leads to resentment and a quick trigger finger when it comes to wanting to pull the plug. You have to want this for yourself because the only person who can truly hold you accountable is you. Please know also as annoying as it may be for the people around you to constantly remind you and stay on your case about you needing to lose the weight, pushing their healthy foods on you, or the scorn they give when you get up for that plate of seconds that it is only because they love you and want the best for you. It is a frightening feeling knowing that someone that you love could be taken away from you prematurely all because they were not willing to take the necessary steps to take better care of their own health. You need those motivators liked loved ones that you can look to as reasons to keep pushing when it gets tough, but the fact still remains that every step you take on your journey has to be because you want to take those steps and nothing else.

When you do decide that you want it for you, you have to ask yourself what you are willing to sacrifice, because it is going to take sacrifice. Ask yourself honestly if you are willing to cut down on the sodas, the fast food, those beloved trips for second helpings, and all those delicious foods that you just can’t get enough of? I’m sure reading that has you second guessing yourself, don’t. You should never feel like you have to tell yourself you cannot have something, the moment you start telling yourself you aren’t allowed to have something you are going to want it that much more and when you do fall off the wagon you will fall hard. What you have to sacrifice is the excess consumption of all those deliciously bad things. Know in your head that it is okay to have that big red with a barbacoa taco on a Sunday morning, some pizza here and there, a sweet tea with your meal on occasion. You also have to be willing to sacrifice some of your free time because changing your eating habits is a big part of dropping weight but it is only half of the battle. You will have to dedicate some time to physical activity whether that be, walks at a park, or finding yourself in the gym. Don’t ever let anyone tell you how or where you should workout, take recommendations and asses your options but just know that you need to find a place that you can enjoy and working out doesn’t feel like such a chore. If all this sounds time-consuming and like it is going to take a lot of effort that is because it is but it is all worth it in the end.

I would ask that you have patience, the problem with the fitness industry is that all it markets to you is quick results when in reality this is supposed to be a long grind it out process. We have spent years and years doing the damage to our bodies and we are supposed to believe that in just ten weeks on some crash diet or with the help of some magic pill we can undo all that damage, excuse my language but that is just a bunch of bullshit. When I started my journey I worked out almost every day for two months and maybe dropped one pound, but I stuck it out and made some tweaks to what I ate and it wasn’t until then that I started seeing results, do not get discouraged if it doesn’t happen for you right away. A year and a half ago if I would have given up after seeing no results there is no telling where I would be. There are going to be points where it feels like nothing you do is working but your body is adapting to the changes you are making and when it does come it will come quick. I would hope that you don’t fall into any quick fix weight loss schemes and just chip away slowly. I cannot stress enough that there will be lulls, you will go stretches without any results but all that means is your body has caught up to what you are doing and its time for some tweaks to your routine.

You are going to want to document the entire process, the good and the bad, whether it be through pictures, videos, or even a journal. If I could go back in time I would tell myself that the journey you are about to embark on is amazing, you’re going to fall in love every aspect of it, and you’re going to want to be able to look back on it and question if you really did that. Don’t ever let anyone feel like what your doing isn’t important because by telling your story and showing your progress you could be laying out a blueprint for someone else to accomplish the same.

Lastly, forget about the scale, toss yours out if you know you will be constantly checking it because that number means nothing. The most important lesson I can give you is that that number is meaningless. Pay attention to your body and what it is telling you more than anything. How do you feel? Can you move around without a struggle? Are your clothes fitting better? The number on the scale plays no part in that. Set goals for yourself like I want to be able to lift x amount of weight, I want to run a mile in x number of minutes, or even I want to fit into x size pant or shirt because I promise you the scale doesn’t tell you as much as getting closer and closer to those goals would. The number will drop in time, but nothing is going to feel as good as achieving those goals. I was able to go months without stepping on a scale only going on the facts that my size 48 pants that I once wore were down to a 34 and the 17-minute mile I originally ran went down to a sub-8-minute mile. Your health and fitness are what means the most, not the numbers on a scale.

I hope that as you begin or continue your journey you can look to me as someone who has been there, someone who has struggled, someone who has hurt, and someone who overcame it all to achieve the goals he set for himself and that if someone like me could do it you can too. If you ever feel like quitting just know that it is okay to feel that way because that is part of the process, you are trying to accomplish something that people who have never been in your position will understand. I just hope from here on out when you feel like stopping you hear me in the back of your head telling you to keep pushing because I know you can do it and I have faith in how strong you are. Never stop fighting, never stop believing in yourself, but mostly enjoy the ride because I know this is something you’ll only experience once.

Sincerely,
Rick

Rick's Lifestyle Change - When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Tue, 09 Aug 2016 18:43:00 +0000

“Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us”

When I decided to let you guys in on my journey, the pain, the joy, the achievement and everything along the way, the plan was that I’d break it down chronologically from the 33olbs that I started my journey at down to my final goal of getting under 200 lbs. As we all know things change, we experience things that alter the way we think, and the route that we ultimately decide to take. So eventually I’d like to venture back to the part of the story explaining how I became very stagnant at 250lbs and showed no progress for six months and what I did to overcome that but right now I’d like to jump ahead to something that happened this past June, not coincidentally the same week of my last post, that threw me for a loop and off-kilter and changed the way I looked at everything.

Everything at Plyofit was going amazing for me, now remember this is a year after hitting my goal of 250 and I am on the scales at 191lbs at this point. I had already made the decision that I wanted my future to include something fitness related so Carlos graciously let me intern in the gym so I was also running workouts for other clients and just helping out in any way possible. Most days when I would intern I was waking up around 4 am so I could get in the gym by 5 am and knock out my workout before spending some time helping out other clients and soaking in as much as possible until I had to get ready for my actual job. I hit my stride, I was really tired most of the time but I enjoyed interning so much more than my actual job and I needed my actual job because it is what paid the bills so I kept up with both as best I could. I was really nervous Interning because even though I had formed relationships with a lot of the other clients at Plyo I didn’t know how they would react to this guy who didn’t know much at all trying to help guide them. When Carlos came to me and said he would be leaving town for two weeks and he would like to see if I could help keep the gym open while he was gone I freaked out. So many thoughts went through my head like would anyone even let me run their workouts on my own, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, I don’t know if I can manage full days here and at work, what if I accidentally burn this place down? My head was screaming at me to just say no, tell him you can’t, tell him you’re not ready, shit just tell him anything that isn’t the word yes. Standing there with Carlos I just looked at him and said, “Hell yeah, I’ll do it”. Technically I didn’t say the word, yes, but it was a serious facepalm moment.

I had time to get ready for what was going to probably be the most nerve-wracking two weeks of my life, so we worked out a plan and he laid everything out for me that I would need to be successful. Luckily it wouldn’t just be me either, I had Nick (another client turned intern) to be there so I knew I wouldn’t be overwhelmed. The days were upon us and when I say I was terrified it’s an understatement to the highest degree. I was up at 4 am (just know when I say 4 am I mean that’s when the first of my seventeen alarms started) to meet the 5 am clients, I had been in here running or helping with the early birds for a while so it was business as usual. Carlos sent me the workouts for each client so I knew exactly what needed to be done. Then people trickled in throughout the day until it was time to close up the gym. I knew I was in for a long two weeks after the end of that very first day but for the most part, I had a blast. The remaining days were going fairly smooth, we had the occasional drop by without a heads up so I had to wing it and make my own workout but all in all we were doing great. Flash forward to the last day of the two weeks and when I tell you I was tired I mean I had nothing left in the tank. I had not only kept the gym open for sessions Monday through Saturday getting up at 4 AM I was still working from 12:30 pm – 11 pm at my day job.

My last day running the gym was an eventful day to say the least, Plyofit was still standing and nobody had quit the gym so I had already counted those two weeks as a win. I told Carlos that day that I couldn’t keep it open later than 10 am because I needed to be at work early that day so I could get out earlier. I told him if anybody came in any later than 9:15 I would have to turn them away because there would be no way we would be done in time. I am sitting there in an empty gym and its 9:20, I hop up and get ready to start closing up shop when I hear the door, now let me remind you at this point I am very sleep deprived and I have another long day at work ahead of me so when I tell you I am annoyed it’s not for any other reason than sleep deprivation. I turn around ready to give whoever this is the boot and when I look I see one of the ladies who has been with me almost every day of these two weeks and forever has this big smile plastered on her face, I swear any thought I had of kicking her out was gone almost immediately. She walked up to me and asked if she still had time and of course I nodded and we went to work. Through every workout she was smiling and moving and busting her ass, I ended up mad at myself for feeling the way I did when she walked in, when we finished I felt even more like a jerk when she looked at me and said, “Thank you, you have come in here every day and you encourage me and push me and I’ve read your blog posts and I see what you have done and it makes me feel like I can do it too”. I was speechless, first of all again I felt like the worst person in the world because I was about two seconds away from asking her to leave, second it just reaffirmed everything I had known for months now, that this is what I wanted to do and even two months later I hold on to that conversation. She left and I closed up shop feeling accomplished and happy, a great way to end a rough two weeks.

Later that night after work I got a phone call from a friend who was a little distraught, I was so tired but I offered to go visit and spend some time in San Marcos with her. Trouble with her living in San Marcos is my truck is an old beat up ford that probably couldn’t make the drive so I reached out to my dad about borrowing his truck for the evening which he agreed to on the condition that I have it back by the time he wakes up for work at 4 am. I agreed and off I was. Fast forward to 3 am and off I was on my way home determined to get my old man’s truck to him before he had to go to work. Honestly, the smart thing would have been to just stay in San Marcos but I didn’t make the smart decision, at this point, I had been awake for almost 23 straight hours following a two-week span of very little sleep and halfway home I fell asleep at the wheel and drove in to a cement blockade. I don’t remember much except that I was going really fast, hitting that blockade really hard, and my left side being thrown into the door. I thank god that nobody was in the car with me, nobody was near me on the road, me and that the tire that was ripped off of the truck and flew over the median into oncoming traffic also didn’t do any damage. I walked away from the accident with no major injuries just a really sore body. Most of the damage was done to my psyche, it would be a while before I recovered.

The physical injuries kept me out of the gym for about a week but even if I walked away from the accident unscathed I probably would have just stayed away, the mental aspect led me back down a road of eating away my sorrows, I was so mad at myself for causing the accident and everything that followed it. Over the next couple weeks when I say I slacked off its another one of those major understatements. I felt like I didn’t have it anymore when I did make my way into the gym it felt like I was starting all over again. I knew I had to just battle through though, I knew I had worked way too hard, but most importantly I knew I had eyes on me. I had eyes on me watching what I do, I knew what me slowing down would mean to someone who looked at me as a roadmap to reaching their own goals. When I talk to people about the process I always make it a point to lead with the setbacks we all inevitably go through, we all experience things that make us want to quit, but how you react to that and fight through it will determine how far you go in the end. If I really wanted to do this for the rest of my life and try to lead and inspire how could I do that if I just up and quit. I thought back to the conversation I had with the client with the forever smile, the words that I think back to often “Thank you, you have come in here every day and you encourage me and push me and I’ve read your blog posts and I see what you have done and it makes me feel like I can do it too” Those words are meaningless if I just stop trying.

Slowly but surely I made my way back, I stopped eating everything and anything I could find again and I was back in the gym six days a week doing everything I could to reach my goals. A bad thing happened but there was some positive that came out of it, falling asleep at the wheel led me to finally wake up. You see my entire life I have been a dreamer with big ideas but no follow through. I always wanted to do big things I was just never going to make a plan and actually accomplish anything. The accident made me realize that life is way too short to just sit around dreaming. So I drew up a plan. This coming spring I’ll be attending classes at Northwest Vista to start working towards my degree. As I do that I am also preparing to take my exams and get my personal trainers certifications. The plan is to now spend the rest of my life doing what I fell in love with and share the joy of achieving your goals with others. What felt like the worst thing that ever happened to me could be what put me directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to me and for that, I will be forever thankful.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Consistency

Wed, 15 Jun 2016 18:35:00 +0000

“The world’s greatest achievers have been those who have always stayed focused on their goals and have been consistent in their efforts.”

Consistency was a trait that had eluded me for so long in so many different aspects of my life. I recall there were so many times that I had said I was driven to stay on the right track or that I was more motivated than I had ever been to achieve something great. The drive and motivation I always told myself I had found always seemed to fall short quickly and I was back at square one. This time was different though, I had the greatness that always seemed to elude me within striking distance. Being under 250 pounds by my 25th birthday wasn’t just a pipe dream anymore, it was doable as long as I stayed focused on my goals.

June 26th, 2015 is a day I’ll never forget. I woke up uneasy, I had, for the most part, stayed away from the scale over the preceding two months because I wanted to surprise myself, only slipping up once a week before the big day because I was so very nervous. All I knew on the morning of my birthday was that I was close, very close. I got out of bed that morning and paced around my room for a good ten minutes trying to convince myself that no matter what the scale said I had accomplished something, dropping as much weight as I had was an accomplishment in itself. I told myself over and over again that I was crazy to think that I could get down to 250 in such a short time, that 45 pounds in three months was a ridiculous goal anyways. All the attempts at rationalizing meant nothing though, I had worked my ass off and anything other than success was going to be unacceptable to me. I had experienced what it felt like already to accomplish a goal I had once deemed impossible just that month before and I wanted to experience that again. I made my way to the scale that was tucked away in the bathroom closet, I placed it on the floor, and took a deep breath as I stepped on to it.

March 12, 2015, at about midnight, as usual, I was sitting in my driveway stretching and looking up at the stars, thinking about what was in front of me. Up to this point, I was flirting with a sub-ten-minute mile on a consistent basis but I could never quite get there. I sat there on the asphalt thinking about how the night before I came up 14 seconds short, I thought about how long 14 seconds actually was, maybe if I hadn’t slowed up a bit on the final stretch of that run I would have beaten it, maybe if I had pushed a little harder for just a little bit longer I would have done it. A ten-minute mile again was only a dream for me when I clocked my first mile at 17 minutes. I got up and took a deep breath or seven, hit start on my Nike run app, and off I was. My pace to start was frantic, I was giving it everything I had right off the bat. I had run this exact mile so many times to this point that I knew exactly where all the distance markers were in my head already. I refused to try and check what my time was on the chance that I would risk slowing down even just a little. Half a mile down and I knew I was making good time as I was at the beginning of the second song to play since my run had started. I had put out so much energy already that I was feeling drained and breathing harder than normal. I knew I couldn’t stop, I reached back into that well of never agains that had now been fueling me for months. Never again would I feel not good enough, never again would I be embarrassed about who I was, never again would I doubt what I was capable of, never again would I be my own biggest naysayer. Over and over again I repeated this to myself as I caught a second wind of energy and looking back at it now I wasn’t actually moving that fast but I felt like I was flying. Coming around the corner I knew I was at the home stretch and I could not let up even for a split second. Here I was, someone who at one point couldn’t run more than ten steps without stopping, not because he had to but because in his own head he felt like he needed to, and now I was leaving everything I had out there on the pavement with no intentions of stopping at all. I was at the end now, gasping for air with one hand on my side that had now begun throbbing in agony. I completed the mile and dramatically threw myself down on to the grass trying to catch my breath. “One mile complete, time,,,” time slowed down, I know it’s an app and it's highly unlikely that it was trolling me but it felt like she was taking a lot longer than normal to tell me the results,”… nine minutes and forty-two seconds”. There it was, what I had worked so hard for, the reason I was running so much, what I had desired for so long I had now achieved that goal. I would be lying if I told you I jumped up in excitement, maybe threw in a fist pump or pounded my chest, the truth is I sat there in the grass and I cried. You see, like I’ve said countless times before, I had never set out to do something of this magnitude before and actually saw it through, I was so proud of myself and so unbelievably happy that all I could do was shed some tears of joy. I soaked it in for as long as I could before I realized that a guy sitting in the grass in the middle of the night tears rolling down his cheek was not a good look. I picked myself up off the ground and made my way back inside the house.

June 26th, 2015 I was standing on that scale with my eyes closed as nervous as I had ever been. I stepped off still with my eyes closed knowing that there was no way to avoid seeing what I weighed in at but to open my eyes and turn off the scale. I finally mustered up the courage to open my eyes and look down, this time there were no tears, this time there was a couple of aggressive fist pumps and a lot of chest pounding. Two hundred and forty-eight pounds is what I read. I had done it, I had achieved my goal, I was the lightest I had been since high school and 82 pounds lighter than I had been when I started this thing. I was no longer that shell of a person who couldn’t stand his own reflection, I was now on top of that hill that I set out to scale. I was on top of the world, but I wasn’t satisfied. I had more work to do. I set my sights high again, my next goal was to drop under 200 lbs, and there was nothing that could stop me, but for the day I was going to reward myself on my birthday with a lot of pizza and get back to being consistent on June 27th.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Pushing Through

Tue, 31 May 2016 18:27:00 +0000

“Good, better, best. Never let it rest. 'Til your good is better and your better is best.”

You see even with very little results on the scale I was proud, I was as optimistic about where I was headed as I had ever been, I was ready to do everything I could to make what I was never good at least become something you could say I was semi-proficient at. I wasn’t even thinking about best or great yet, I was focused on good. I would be good enough to turn my gradual walks around the block at Plyo into full-on runs, I would be good enough to take that one push up (that honestly was not really a push up) that I could do into a full on set, but more so I was ready to get good at being me again.

Plyo was kicking my ass every day, but I knew if I wanted to reach my goal of losing those 47 pounds and taking my weight down to 250 pounds for the first time since the end of my high school days I would have to do more than what I was already doing in the gym. As with any hopes of weight loss it's well known that the most important part is, of course, the nutrition aspect, you could work out as much as humanly possible but if you don’t hit that nutrition then you will likely not get the results you really want. Up to this point I had made minimal changes, the big red and barbacoa was still a fixture on Sunday mornings, the tacos from the taqueria jaliscos on every corner of any San Antonio street corner still called out to me, and of course, the pizza in all its cheesy glory was never out of reach. I was drinking more water but my infatuation with sweet tea hadn’t subsided one bit, so needless to say I understood the lack of lost pounds up to this point. I finally came to the realization that I was never likely going to be able to fully cut out all of my favorite things but the least I could do would be to take in far less of what I craved so much. To say it was hard was an understatement, I would make my usual rounds to those taquerias but I replaced my usual taco order of two bean and cheese and two carne guisada with cheese tacos with a modest order of one of each instead. I would still order my sweet tea but with a glass of water as well and I would drink the water first to ensure I wouldn’t gulp down the tea. I incorporated this style of ordering food at every restaurant I found my way to. The lunch buffet at Peter Piper Pizza? (What I feel is the best chain pizza place hands down) one plate with only two to three slices. Portion control was huge, If I found myself at a restaurant where the serving sizes were huge, Id cut my meal in half and box the rest. Again, not huge changes but enough that results started to show, within three weeks I was down 15 pounds and that much closer to my goal.

March 05, 2015 is the first time I ever timed myself “running” a mile and it took me 17 minutes and 35 seconds. That was nowhere near good and I needed to make it better, and to do that I knew that I couldn’t just keep taking leisure walks because I felt a little tired, or even to what that point was becoming what in my head I played up as a semi-serious shin and ankle problem to get out of trying harder. So from that day, I began pushing myself past the limits of what my mind was telling me was how far I could go and started listening more to my body and how it actually felt. My inner monologue became that of those reserved for cartoons and TV sitcoms with the angel and devil bickering back and forth over what action is best, the good or the bad. My head was telling me “You’re tired just stop, I think it’s time to stop, seriously let’s just walk a bit, you’re a large fellow you aren’t meant to do things like this” but my body was more like “Ehhhh we could probably do a little more, just keep going, you’ll know when it’s really time to stop”. Still, with my newfound willingness to push myself through the mental walls, I myself was building and shut out my own doubt that resided in my own head I knew I needed to do more.

I was slowly breaking my way out of my shell but I wasn’t quite there yet, I was still embarrassed about who I was, so I decided I would start running on my own as well but I came to the conclusion that I had to do it where nobody could see me, where I couldn’t be judged, where I’d avoid the eyes of strangers. Every night around 12 AM, when I assumed most of my neighbors were fast asleep, I would make my way outside and try and run. At first, I cut out a small path which I eventually marked out as a quarter mile. I would go around four times but most of which I was either a very slight jog or a fast-paced walk. Again I was determined to get better though and gradually I began to run more and more. Soon I expanded my terrain, finding a way around my neighborhood that was one complete mile. Night after night I would lace up my Nikes and sit in the driveway just looking at the stars preparing myself for what I was about to do, then id get up look around to see if anyone was watching and then off I was. All the work began to pay off and on April 3, 2015, I cut my mile to 13 minutes and 41 seconds. Within a month I had cut four minutes off my mile and had dropped 15 pounds. I was starting to experience those little victories, the little victories that begin to add up and become the building blocks to that breakthrough, they are so crucial to your success when it comes to trying to make a positive lifestyle change. They were starting to build for me finally, I was lighter, faster, stronger, I build a semblance of what could be considered confidence, and I was ready for more.

I’ve realized these days how wrong I was, what I was doing at the time by struggling my way through attempts to do things I had never done before was not at all something I should have felt I needed to hide. Now when I see people running, struggling, pushing themselves I feel such pride and joy. You should never be embarrassed by trying to better yourself and if someone judges you for it then the hell with them. At 270 pounds I was starting to realize this and I was more motivated than ever and I was ready to show the world that I was about to do something amazing. 250 pounds was in my grasp and now I was adding a new goal to my to-do list. I was going to push these tired legs and find my way to a mile in less than 10 minutes. I finally had the confidence in myself to know I could be better than good, I wasn’t going to stop until my good was better and my better was best.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - The Next Step

Mon, 23 May 2016 18:18:00 +0000

“Look at what you want to change, gather a few people who believe in it like you do, and start moving forward. It's important to remember that you don't always need a destination. Sometimes, you just have to make forward motion. And you absolutely can.”

At this point in my journey, my destination was still in question. I knew I wanted to be healthier and have the ability to play with my nieces for many years to come with no pain. I knew that there was this lady who I wanted more than anything to have the confidence to actually ask out on a date. I had no idea how far I would have to go to reach these goals. For the first time in a long time though, I knew what I had to do, and there was nothing in my head that could stop me from reaching these goals. But then again I’ve said that before.

I heard about a gym that was run by my uncle’s former student, Carlos Rodriguez, called Plyofit. The day after I went to a Lee Brice concert, I was thinking in my head that I had no shot with this girl, but then I decided I would never accept that feeling again. I sent Carlos a text asking when it would be ok to come in and work out and got no response for 24 hours. One thing you learn about Carlos is he takes a while to get back to your texts, but I finally got a response and set up a time to come in the following morning.

That next day I already had my doubts. I didn’t want to get up out of bed, and I was already thinking of as many excuses as possible to flake out. I finally got out of bed and forced myself to the car, and then I sat outside the gym for at least 20 minutes, again just trying to find reasons not to go in. I found the courage to step out the door and take those steps up to the entrance and in I went.

A few steps in and I heard the now familiar greeting, “WHAT'S UP?” yelled across a warehouse, converted into a gym with the word PLYOFIT written across the wall in big red and yellow letters. I inched in a little more half excited, half terrified. After introductions, we went right to work, and it’s no exaggeration when I tell you that 20 minutes in I wanted to give Carlos the middle finger and find an exit. I had already decided I was going to survive today and I was out, never to be heard from again.

40 minutes in I was just ready to say, “F**k it” and die right there on that floor. An hour in and I swear if it would have gone a minute longer I was going to have to fight this man if I could just muster up the strength. I’m 294 pounds, why in the hell does he think I can do these things, why are we not putting on the training wheels and doing baby workouts? Why was he so damn confident in my ability to do these things when I was absolutely sure I couldn’t? He was way too excited every time I succeeded at anything and for that, I knew he couldn’t be trusted. My mind was made up, there was no tomorrow for me here at Plyofit. What the heck does that mean anyways, Plyofit?

So as soon as he gave me the fist bump (which anyone who works out there can tell you means you’re done and get the hell out) I was ready to bounce. But before I could run out the door and make my great escape, he pulled me aside for a conversation. He asked me why I was coming in, what my reason was for wanting to make a lifestyle change, and for the first time, I voiced out loud exactly why I wanted to get healthier and how important it was to me. I’ll never forget how he just looked at me and laid it all out for me. He told me that he would do whatever he could to get me where I wanted to be but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. He said I would only go as far as I was willing to take it. What he showed me in the gym would have it make its way into my everyday life.

At that moment I was all-in because I knew he wanted this for me as much as I said I wanted it for myself. Just like that, instead of disappearing into the abyss I turned around and without thinking told him I’d see him tomorrow. The only thought I had was, ”Shit, what did I just get myself in to?”

As a hefty person, you learn to mentally test everything. Can I fit in that chair? And if I do fit, how sturdy do those legs look? If I try and squeeze between that group of people will I undoubtedly knock someone over with my belly? Should I risk getting on this ride at Six Flags because if this shit doesn’t close and I have to do the walk of shame, I swear I’m going to lose it. As a master of this game, I knew what was going to be asked of me was not possible, but I was willing to try. You see as much as I credit my nieces, and my desire to be good enough for driving me there were a million other things I was using as motivation.

The time I was at a family party and we were picking teams for volleyball and I wasn’t chosen, never again. The time on an airplane and the seatbelt wasn’t big enough, so I had to ask for an extender, never again. The time we went to a convention and they were giving out free shirts and the biggest size they had was a large (I was a 3x at the time, and I still have the shirt by the way) so I took it embarrassed, never again. The time we were signing up for Planet Fitness and they were giving out a free shirt and again didn’t have any big enough (seriously people, if you’re ever giving out free shirts think about the hefty portion of our population) so again I was embarrassed and without a free shirt, never again. These moments in my life of shame and embarrassment, these moments kept me down for so long in the gutter depressed. Now they were going to prop me up and keep me strong, because with the help of Carlos and Plyofit I knew that I was never going to experience those things ever again.

We were off to the races, a very slow race to start, but a race nonetheless. Oh man, once we got past the intense burning of my muscles, the stiffness, the aches, the pains, and the overwhelming feeling that I couldn’t go another day like this, everything was great. Yet I hadn’t dropped a pound in a month of hell and I was feeling skeptical. That’s where a lot of people run into issues, but it’s not all about the weight. At that point, I was able to do things that I couldn’t a month ago. I was stronger, my range of motion had increased by so much, and most importantly I just didn’t feel as helpless. My body was transforming and I was getting impatient because of the scale so I made a vow to myself: I’ll stick with the process and eventually that scale would read what I wanted to, but until then I would work harder and harder to ensure that I would get there eventually.

It was now April 2015, I was 24 years old and I weighed 294 pounds. There was one thing I knew for sure, by June 26th of that year, my 25th birthday, I was going to weigh less than 250 pounds and I was going to do whatever it took to get there.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Inspiration

Mon, 16 May 2016 19:00:00 +0000

“Transformation is a process, and as life happens there are tons of ups and downs. It’s a journey of discovery - there are moments on mountaintops and moments in deep valleys of despair.”

That phrase, moments in deep valleys of despair, sticks out to me the most. You see, at this point in my life I wasn’t just having moments in this valley of despair, I had built a makeshift hut and made it my permanent residence with “keep out” signs posted all over. As motivated as I should have been to work my way out, or at least get to sea level, I had convinced myself that this makeshift hut in this deep valley was all I had and I was going to make it work. Occasionally, there were times where I would build myself up as ready to finally make that trip to that mountaintop. If I just got this bottom off this couch and actually put in some work I would be ready to make that climb in time, but eventually, I would decide it just was going to take way too long to get there and it was almost dinner time anyway. So I’d try again another day.

Life is full of moments where we find ourselves at a crossroads, needing to make a choice that could affect the trajectory of our whole future. At the moment they feel minute in meaning, but as time passes you realize one situation handled differently would have changed everything. I stood at this fork in the road once again, embarrassed and saddened as I looked into the eyes of one of those miracles I mentioned earlier. A beautiful baby girl who just wanted to be held by her uncle but he couldn’t. I walked away from her with my head down and just one thought in my mind: never, ever again.

Maya Alison Garcia: the most beautiful baby girl you have ever seen, the third of my nieces. I love every single one of my nieces and nephews but it was always different with Maya. She wanted to be in my arms, and when I held her and she looked at me with those big eyes I knew I would do anything for this little girl. While at a birthday party one day Maya was crying as I was walking by. She reached out so I scooped her up and started walking around to continue helping with the party. Three minutes into our walk, I start to feel a pain in my lower back. I was 24 years old and my back was hurting because I was carrying an infant. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone, so I tried to power through but not two minutes later I was throwing in the towel handing her off with the excuse that I needed to use the bathroom.

There we were, I’m walking away from a crying infant who just wants to come with her uncle on his pretend trip to the bathroom. I was angry, but this time it was different, I wasn’t angry at the world for putting me in this situation. I wasn’t mad at God for making me this way, I finally and rightfully was mad at what I had allowed myself to become. I was angry because I knew if I didn’t make a change these beautiful nieces of mine might never get to know their uncle or even worse grow up knowing me and lose me very young because my health was deteriorating right in front of them.

This was Moment #1, the first time I told myself that for my nieces, for the future kids I want to have, and for my own damn pride that this shit would never happen again. That something had to change, that I had to change.

I was no longer content in the valley of despair. I found my motivation to do more than just think about the mountaintop: I was going to go for it.

The first step in a new journey is very important. You have finally decided it Is time to move forward. But the second step…that is by far the most important. You see, that first step sets your direction and starts your path, but with the second step you have committed yourself, not only have you chosen your path but now you’re moving forward in an actual attempt to get there. Each and every step you take after that just means you’re that much closer to reaching your goal. I took that first step and decided I was going to get out, but how? What was my second step going to be? How was I actually going to follow through?

I had taken that first step countless times before, talking big about going to the gym, convincing others I was ready to get in shape as long as I had someone to guide me, only to show up once and then go back in hiding, pretending like my phone wasn’t working. So what would be my next step? Simply put, I just decided to get off my ass, leave that indention on my couch, and walk. Night after night, I would walk. At the time it seemed so minimal to me, 30 minute walks every night, and then some minor changes to my diet but it was something I could stick to, something that became natural and just a part of my routine. I was moving around, my feet and ankles hurt, but I enjoyed the pain because it meant that this 330-pound guy who had given up still had something left to give. Two months later I was down to 300 pounds, I was alive and awake for the first time in a long time.

Two more months passed and slowly but surely I incorporated some running into my walks. Not very much, but thirty minutes had increased to an hour. I was working harder but I had only gone down another six pounds. Even though I was down to 294 pounds and I was happier than I had been in a long time it wasn’t good enough. As most people are with weight loss, I was doing the minimal amount of work and expecting maximum results in return. Unfortunately, that’s just not how life works. The fact of the matter is, you will only get back as much as you put in. Even though walking was a great second step for me, more had to be done. I still wasn’t good enough, I still had so much more to go, and I needed something new to push me forward but I couldn’t find it. I was stuck until she showed up and everything changed.

You see, I really had resigned myself to a life of being alone. I hadn’t made a single effort to enter the dating scene. There was one lady, though, that I always had my eyes on from afar. Unfortunately, I was too ashamed of what I was to ever say anything, until one day I got a text from her asking if I wanted to go to a Brett Eldridge concert. My first thought was absolutely not, because self-confidence was still at an all-time low. I decided just to make an excuse. “The concert is too short notice for me, I can’t make it.” Which was 100% bullshit, there was nothing I wanted more than to go to that concert. Then a thought bubble popped up in my head. “You’re down 34 pounds and you have nothing to lose, just go for it.” These were the first signs of a small semblance of confidence forming. “Hey, the rodeo is next month, how about we go see Lee Brice instead?” I finally shot my shot, I felt like a new me, but I still needed an answer, a “No” at this point would for sure set me back. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days. In reality, it took less than a minute for a response, but damn did it feel like days…“YES!” I was alive again if even for a moment, I wasn’t ashamed of who I was, I was just a man who after thousands of painstaking steps forward had made it somewhere finally. It was time to push myself even harder.

Rick's Lifestyle Change - Introduction

Mon, 09 May 2016 17:46:00 +0000

“There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved.”

A very true and powerful quote, but from my perspective, I can see now there is more to it than just being loved by and loving others as is. A big part of your happiness is also loving yourself, being able to look in the mirror and smile because you enjoy what you see looking back at you. If you can’t truly love yourself, how can anyone else? This is something I struggled with for years, looking in the mirror and wanting to punch out what I saw in front of me. I often felt depressed because of what I saw, the feeling of being inadequate and not worthwhile. I didn’t love myself and I made damn sure it was hard for anyone else to love me as well.

For those who don’t know me my name is Ricardo Vega, I am 25 years old, and for most of my life, I have battled with my weight. Over the past five years, I’ve mostly been getting my ass kicked in said battle. I grew up in a typical Mexican family where the food was plentiful and often times overly excessive. We all struggled with our weight, from my parents, my sisters, my aunts, my uncles, to even my dog (he’s a fatty, which yes, I know, is also my fault). I spent most of my childhood at my grandparents’ house after school and the first thing my grandmother would ask when I walked through the door was “Tienes hambremijo?” And the answer was always “Si.” To this day I know very little Spanish, but I’ll never forget how to say I am hungry. No doubt there were bean and cheese tacos, arroz con pollo, and fideo to my heart’s desire. My parents would then pick us up and as best I could I would try and decipher whether they were asking my grandmother if we had eaten already. Once we were in the car and headed home they’d inevitably ask if I had eaten and if I had the green light, I would lie and say no. There were even times when I knew my parents were told I ate but I would try and minimize what I ate by breaking a taco down into fractions like, “No Mom, I only ate like a third of a taco.” Pretty smart for a child if you ask me. So I spent my childhood swindling my way to as many extra meals as I could, with no idea the damage I was doing. I just knew I loved eating and I wanted to do it as often as possible. I was laying down the foundation for a future of health issues and complexes about who and what I was.

As I grew so did my appetite, spending my nights sneaking into the kitchen and eating full meals after everyone was off to bed. You see, even at fourteen and fifteen years old, I battled with self-control. I just knew I was hungry and I had to eat, if I was thirsty water wasn’t an option when soda or juice was tempting me. Why eat fruit when there are chips and cookies around? There was even a time when I stole a 12-count bag of string cheese and devoured them in my room. When my mom came into my room I tried to hide them in the storage space under my headboard. As all moms do though with their extra powerful mom senses she knew I was up to something and found all the wrappers. Oh man, did I get in trouble for that one? I was addicted to sugar and salty snacks and I just couldn’t stop. Through high school, those complexes started to come through.

I now weighed 240 pounds and I stuffed myself into clothes that were way too tight because I couldn’t accept what I had become. I was full on addicted to sodas and greasy fast food, and that lack of self-control was biting me on the ass. I knew I couldn’t keep on this path but I couldn’t stop the runaway train of bad eating habits and chronic laziness. I slowly started to resent myself, and looking in the mirror became harder and harder.

As a young adult, I learned quickly that with a car, a less-than-stellar paycheck, and an insufferable appetite for fast food I was screwed. McDonald's was always five minutes away and five dollars would get me three burgers and a drink (always have to account for taxes, learned that quick). Early into my 20s, I ballooned to 290 pounds. I was bigger than I had ever been and at that point, I realized I didn’t love myself anymore. I couldn’t stand looking in the mirror and I finally reached that point where wanting to punch what I was looking at became more and more tempting, I stopped wanting to leave the house unless it was to go get food, I felt like everybody judged me for how big I had gotten so I went in to hiding.

The problem with that was my unwillingness to leave the house except to feed my hunger for more and more food led to more air in the balloon, an extra 30 pounds to be exact. At 330 pounds I was bigger and more depressed than ever. Life was done for me, I didn’t hate myself when I looked in the mirror, because I didn’t even have the energy to hate. I was just saddened by what I had become but I had resigned myself to this life. The worst part was the people I was bringing down with me.

Perhaps most of all, I hurt the woman who for years stood by my side through every bad choice I made, the woman who saw me gain 80 pounds but still supported me, even when I became the hermit crab who would never take her out to show her off or do anything for her that couldn’t be done from home. I pushed her away from me, doing exactly what she asked me not to until she couldn’t take it anymore. If I couldn’t love me, how was anyone else going to? If I couldn’t stand the sight of me, how was anyone else going to? I was alone, just the way I knew I was supposed to be. A life of self-pity was in store for me, and the worst part was I accepted that I was ok with that. My life was done.

So there I was, I had just lost my hope, my lady (who credit to her stuck with me longer than she should have), and lost my will to function as just a normal human. I couldn’t keep a job because all I could think about was how much better my couch was than a work chair. If you’re reading this and thinking how tragic all of this sounds, then you are absolutely correct. I put myself in a situation that was going to take a miracle to get myself out of. It turns out those miracles came in a couple different forms.