I was born weighing 6 pounds...It only took 23 years to gain 232 more. This is a journey, an unhealthy lifestyle that swallows you faster, than Kobeyashi versus a Coney Island Hotdog. Few fatties on this road wake up from this food trip, only to realize they've taken the wrong road, and must detour to find a healthier life. I've had a hell of a bumpy road.

For years, fat kids are lead to believe that Bigger is Better. Bigger Burgers are Better. Bigger kids are stronger. We're large and in charge while livin' large. Thus a majority of Americans are classified as overweight, obese, and morbidly obese. The quick cheap meal has controlled the lives and stomachs of Americans. Pop culture has made the fatman a favorite. Only in America is competitive eating championed as a spectator sport.

It's not only the American Super Sized lifestyle that champions a big belly. In Philippine culture, food is a status symbol. The fatter you are, the richer your family is. To Filipinos, fatness equals cuteness. No one likes a scrawny little kid. Those are called peasants. Religion also plays a pivotal role in the over appreciation of food. Most Filipinos are Catholics, and according to their simple equation, for every piece of left over food,you get one extra stone cast upon you in purgatory. It becomes a guilt trip, bearing down on your conscience. Your parents tell you about the starving kids in far worse countries, and the vengeful god who will strike down upon those who do not wipe out the entire plate. In Philippine culture, food is a central force, you cannot leave a Filipinos house without eating at least one chunk of Lechon (the ginormous roast pig) It is in an insult if you decline food from friends and relatives. All these add up to the Philippines being the fattest country in Asia. and all these added to my childhood obesity.

As third world immigrants, my parents were delighted at the abundance of food, and the endless chains of fast food restaurants. In the Philippines, McDonalds and Burger King are only for the rich. When you grow up surrounded by several of these institutions at economically cooperative prices , it's only natural for your parents to fill you up with food meant for Philippine Royalty.

Growing up, my mom stuffed the plates withmountains of yummies. During my summers as a latchkey little leaguer, I'd make frequent stops to the neighborhood 7-11. Hot Dogs and Slurpees were my breakfast and lunch. My dad would eventually get us pizza for dinner. Spam and Vienna Sausage were a big part of the daily meals. Can goods and frozen dinners ruled the cupboard. In fact I didn't even have a real peach until I was like 25. As far as I knew, peaches grew from cans or little plastic cups.

We eventually got the George Foreman grill. Did it knock out the fat in my family? No, the slanted grill-plate with dripping catcher made it easier to pour the saucy juicy fat over my rice.

This gluttonous upbringing made me the fat kid in school. Eventually in high school I was able to transform my fatness into muscle and use it to my advantage on the football field. I managed to work my way into a solid 195 pound athlete with only 16% body fat. I still ate big, but it was fine since I'd burn it off in the weight room or on the field. I'm a lineman and a linebacker, food was my blocking and tackling fuel. A dozen years of eating paid off with with four years of football, wrestling, and track. I don't think I had a problem. I grew into my weight.

When you're 18, a student athlete, and not ridiculously fat, you're king of the world. But for how much longer until the fatness chases you down and dethrones you?