Welp. The unthinkable has happened. I am officially the heaviest I have ever been. I stepped on a scale today and the number that blinked back at me was 260 pounds. Even for a yo-yo dieter like me, I’ve never seen a number that high. It’s both impressively appalling, and appallingly impressive.

Remember in 2019 when I successfully gave up sugar and gluten for an entire year? It took a helluva lot of willpower to make that happen. Weight fell off me—10, 20, 30 pounds at a time.

Conversely, when the pandemic hit last year, I did the exact opposite. I literally started stress eating everything in sight—with a particular predilection for Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. And I haven’t stopped in thirteen months. Couple that with some wildly lethargic behavior and it’s no surprise that I’ve hit 260. (I immediately called a friend and lamented that number just seemed astronomical to me. “More like ass-ton-omical,'” he said. God, I hate my friends.)

The last time I was this big I was a raging, out-of-control wino. That was 2015—right after my mom passed away and I lost my job. I felt like garbage—wait, rather, bloated, wheezing, slovenly, joyless garbage. This time around, my year-long weight gain has affected neither my health (uh, yet) or my mood (uh, yet). Maybe that’s why I didn’t pay much attention. #sorrynotsorry

But the numbers don’t lie. I weigh 260 pounds—a ridiculous shift from even a year ago at the start of the pandemic. This time around I managed to do it solely by eating a woefully crap-tastic diet. Mercifully, my sobriety remains intact. If I were still drinking, I’ll guarantee I’d be hovering around 300. Full stop.

I’m writing this not to blame/shame myself or paint an oh-woe-is-me picture. Instead, I’m looking back on 2020 as my year of eating dangerously. I showed not one iota of self-restraint. Hell, I drank Mexican Coke, which has enough sugar to cause diabetes in a Clydesdale.

People fall off the wagon. It happens. Or in my case, I fell off the wagon—which was owned by Krispy Kreme, and it repeatedly backed over me. On May 3rd, I went back on the diet that has become my go-to: no sugar, no sweeteners, no gluten, no starches, no kidding. (And, no, I have no particular diet time frame/timeline.)

My body is currently in a state of revolt. Withdrawal is a bitch. I’d give it another week or so before contacting me. You’ve been warned. But when you do reach out, please suggest we do something invigorating. Deal? Sedentary M2 was fun while he lasted, but it’s time to get some fresh air into these newly vaccinated lungs.

(Oh, and PS: There’s no shame in the weight gain game. A global pandemic only comes around every century or so. I just decided to really capitalize on it. Also, if you own stock in Hershey, Starbucks or Shake Shack, I’d sell now. They’re probably gonna see a noticeable dip in the next several months.)