Battle of the Beer Belly | Craft Beer Vs. Fitness

On January 9, I stepped onto a scale for the first time in three months. The number that blinked back at me was a shock: 309.7lbs. I knew it was going to be bad. My size 36 jeans were too small to squeeze into, and I had been feeling pretty run down. For my sake and my family’s, this beer belly has to go.

The path to this sorry state was pretty obvious. As someone who has struggled with my weight for my entire adult life, I knew the signs. It all starts with an event (or series of events), which causes me to lose focus on my diet. This time, the catalyst was the loss of two extended family members in close succession. Once my dietary discipline is compromised, it is usually only a matter of time until workouts fall by the wayside. It all snowballs from there.

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