It’s Simple—Not Easy: My Journey Through Weight Loss, Habit Change, And Finding Myself Again

For most of my life, my weight moved between overweight and morbidly obese. I understood the general principle of weight loss perfectly well. This did not create the minor inconvenience of actually losing weight.

At its most basic, weight change involves energy intake and expenditure. People often reduce this to “eat less and move more,” deliver it as if they have solved human behaviour, and then look pleased with themselves.

The principle is simple. Living it is not.

Food is tied to habit, stress, convenience, reward, family, culture, boredom, and whatever disaster happens to be unfolding that week. Movement depends on time, health, confidence, sleep, and whether your knees have filed an objection. Knowing the equation does not make those factors disappear.

Surgery Was Not An Easy Button

I had bariatric surgery. Some people hear that and conclude that surgery did the work for me. It certainly helped; denying that would be ridiculous. It changed my appetite, portions, and physical ability to eat. It did not choose my meals, build an exercise routine, stop nicotine, improve my sleep, or keep me consistent after the initial weight loss.

Before surgery, I spent a year working with a dietitian. I learned to eat regular meals, pay attention to portions, and recognise the behaviours that had helped me reach 150 kg. Surgery provided leverage, but habits determined what happened with it.

Sleep Came First

My old sleep schedule involved going to bed around 2 a.m. and dragging myself up by 8, often later when working from home removed the threat of a commute. I treated exhaustion as a personality trait.

I moved bedtime earlier in stages: first 11, then 10, then earlier still. Eventually I was waking around 4:30 and going out for a walk or run by 5:30. This would have sounded like a punishment to my younger self. It became one of the best parts of my day.

Better sleep did not solve everything. It made everything else less difficult, which is often the more realistic bargain.

Breakfast Became Food

For years, breakfast meant coffee and cigarettes. Nutritionally, this left some room for improvement.

I replaced it with actual food and settled into regular meals and planned snacks. I focused on portions, protein, vegetables, and enough carbohydrates and fats to make meals satisfying. I also used Ozempic under medical supervision for blood-glucose control. It reduced my appetite, but it was one part of a much larger change.

Some Habits Left More Easily Than Others

Preparing for surgery meant giving up carbonated drinks. Surprisingly, that was not especially difficult. Once the habit broke, I stopped missing them.

Nicotine was different. I started smoking when I was young and later switched to vaping, which allowed me to preserve the addiction while feeling technologically current. Before surgery, I moved to nicotine-free liquid and eventually stopped vaping altogether.

At the time this article was first written, I had been nicotine-free for six months. Quitting required more patience and unpleasantness than any inspirational poster had prepared me for.

Walking Turned Into Training

About two months after surgery, I began walking every day and working with a personal trainer twice a week. The walks became longer, then faster, and eventually turned into runs. Strength sessions became part of the week. I also returned to windsurfing, a sport I had loved when I was younger.

None of this arrived as a dramatic transformation. It was repetition: wake up, put on shoes, go outside, do the session, and repeat. Progress is often boring while it is happening. It becomes a story only afterwards.

Simple Still Does Not Mean Easy

I do not believe that anybody can copy my process and receive the same result. Bodies, health, resources, responsibilities, and starting points differ. I also do not believe that change requires becoming a superhero.

It requires an honest look at the habits producing the current result, then enough patience to change them without expecting a perfect record. Surgery helped me enormously. Medication helped. Medical professionals helped. So did walking, sleep, regular food, training, and repeatedly starting again after imperfect days.

There was no single secret. There was a collection of unglamorous decisions made often enough to matter.

That is less exciting than a miracle solution, which is unfortunate for anyone trying to sell one. It is also considerably more useful.