As Type 2 diabetics, we're often told that the best thing we can do for ourselves is lose weight. And that's undeniably true. But no one tells you ahead of time how weird that process can be.
Now, I write about my own weight struggle a lot, so perhaps it's time for me to own up to some actual numbers. I'm not an "alert the media" level fat guy. When I was diagnosed with diabetes almost two years ago, I went on a panic-and-phentermine-fuled weight loss frenzy, and I lost about thirty pounds. At 6'2", I got down to about 205 pounds. So not Jude Law, but not Jabba the Hutt, either.
This was quite a difference from the worst of my college days, when I weighed (and I can't believe this, even as I type it) about 280 pounds. I was a mess, a big sloppy boozy lummox. I'd managed to lose about thirty of those pounds before I was even diagnosed, because let's face it, Dean Wormer in Animal House was right. "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." (READ MORE)


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