Rick Delashmit!

Rick’s Story…
In the interest of full and open disclosure, I promised I’d publish my story to our Facebook page so here it goes…
I’ve always been a stocky guy, but when you’re 5′2″ and 190lbs – I don’t think ’stocky’ is the word any longer. My weight has always been something I’ve struggled with, but honestly, I was never willing to put in the time and effort to properly address it. Rather, my solutions were geared toward quick fix changes to my diet like Atkins and super low calorie diets which invariably never succeed in keeping the weight off.
Two things have led me to this point where I’m willing to make the changes and sacrifices necessary to change my lifestyle for good…
1) I’ve now outlived my Father by nearly 4 years. I don’t know how many of you reading this have outlived your parents, but I’m sure you’ll agree that if you have – it’s a surreal feeling. He was 34 when he passed away and I’ll be 38 in December . The cancer had progressed too far and by the time he saw his doctor, there was nothing they could do. My diet consists primarily of McDonald’s (which I eat virtually everyday), peanut butter, anything made by Hostess, and Diet Coke. I live every day with the knowledge that my family history of cancer and my junk food filled diet are most likely going to significantly shorten my life.
2) I married my high-school sweetheart. We’ve been together more than half our lives already. We have two beautiful boys Reece (6) and Harry (4). Like every Father and Husband, I have a responsibility to take care of myself to ensure that I live long enough to support my children and help nurture them as they grow into adulthood. My responsibility however, was amplified after the events of May 31st, 2008. We were involved in a side impact car accident which nearly took the life of my oldest son Reece. He spent two weeks in a coma and over three months in the hospital last Summer. Reece suffered a traumatic brain injury and May 31st of last year was the last time we heard his precious voice or saw him run and play like the perfectly healthy 5 year old he was at that time.
To say that depression has played a role in the fact that I’ve gained 20 pounds in the last year would be a monumental understatement. I find myself binging late at night after I’ve put Reece to bed and put on the braces he must wear on his hands and feet to keep his muscles from contracting. The shock of the initial injury has subsided but I still struggle everyday with how much I miss hearing him say “I love you Daddy.”
I don’t have a choice any longer. Getting in shape is imperative because until Reece can walk again (and he will) I have to carry him. This isn’t an issue now, but he’s only 6. What if I still have to carry him when he’s 10 or 12? I pray that this isn’t the case, but I have to be prepared for the eventuality. I find myself getting short of breath when we practice walking around the backyard. God forbid that my lack of stamina could shortchange his recovery efforts. I owe it to Reece to match his relentless drive to get back all he’s lost.