John Mahoney's Asshat to Arhat Files: The Improbable Journey
John Mahoney
John Mahoney
is editor of the Log Cabin Chronicles.

His previous columns are archived HERE.

Posted 12.03.12
Cobden, Ontario


"You have diabetes"

COBDEN, ONTARIO | The doctor was blunt: "You have diabetes."

She didn't stop there.

  • High blood pressure.

  • Fatty liver.

  • Gallstones.

  • Epigastric hernia.

  • Plus, I was seriously overweight. Obese, even.

It was very clear: The bill was now due for what had become of my sedentary Danny Dumpster lifestyle.

Too much "wrong" food, too often. Too much alcohol, too often. Too little exercise, all the time. Hell, my son Dr. Kevin (the Iron Man guy) often referred to me as "the anti-Christ of Exercise".

Look, I had known for some time I was on a bad path. Five foot eight and 220 lbs. at age 76 ought to set off alarm bells. A fifth of whiskey or vodka every 4-5 days, plus regular enjoyment of wine (both red and white). And after-meal candies...

Shortly after the annual Christmas holiday binge, I had started pushing back from the table, had cut back some on the drinking. Yada yada yada. Too little, too late.

So, what to do? Where to begin?

Food intake, obviously. What I was eating, and how much of it.

No alcohol. Goodbye Irish whiskey, farewell iced vodka, so long vin rouge.

Off your sorry ass, Johnny, and lace up them walking shoes.

And deal with the stresses in your daily life. All day, every day.

What I was looking at was a serious commitment to change my life style. I just had been given a second chance, but I had to alter my ways of being on this earth if I wanted to stick around for a few more years.

[Let me make this clear at the outset - had it not been for the total collaboration of Jane Goyette, my wife and companion of more than half a century, I couldn't have pulled this off. Yes, there has been all the planning and cooking and data recording, but also some necessary nagging and whip-cracking...]

I started the shock assault on my tubby 205 pound body with a daily 850-calorie Concentration Camp diet. Jane became my personal Colonel Klinck.

And no booze at all...

NEXT: Eat shit and die, Fat Boy